


Chaldea Late Night

by Catcateightyeight



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Group Sex, Humor, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catcateightyeight/pseuds/Catcateightyeight
Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens after hours at the Chaldea facility? Once the administrators go to bed and darkness falls over the snow, what kind of shenanigans might the masters and their servants get up to? With a myriad of people living in very close proximity, the possibilities are almost endless.





	1. Truth or Dare

The time was early evening for the people of Chaldea. Dinner hour was coming to a belated close. Most of the staff had already retired for the evening, but a few of the more restless heroes were still milling about the cafeteria. The mellow atmosphere resonated with an undertone of boredom, one that affected some more acutely than others. Quiet conversations were occasionally punctuated by frustrated grumbles and petty grievances. By King Gilgamesh's third complaint about how dull this evening was shaping up to be, the usually quiet and patient Ritsuka-kun was about to lose his cool.

"If you are so bored, why don't we all play a game?" suggested Chaldea's other master, a small red head by the same name.

"A game?" inquired the blue haired lancer, turning his attention away from Astolfo and his caster counterpart and looking down the table towards his masters. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Of course the prospect of a game with Master would garner your attention, hound," the golden archer scoffed into his wine cup. He received spiteful glares from not only Cu Chulainn the lancer, but also the berserker sitting at an adjacent table.

Ritsuka-chan decided to ignore the sly comment. "Well, I have an idea, but I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it."

"I'm sure any idea you have would work out just fine, Senpai," Mashu encouraged, patting her master's arm.

"It's called Truth or Dare. It's a game that some of the kids in my neighborhood played when I was growing up. Have you heard of it?" Ritsuka-chan asked of the male master.

"I've heard of it, and I don't think I'm the only one," he replied, his gaze shifting to the adjacent table.

"Tch," Emiya the archer clicked his tongue, having begun listening to the conversation when his speaking partner, Cu Chulainn the berserker, had begun staring daggers at Gilgamesh. "Yeah, I'm familiar with that game. It's a little childish though."

"You're right," Ritsuka-chan admitted, succumbing to her embarrassment. "We don't have to play. It was a stupid idea anyways."

"Don't say that Senpai!" Mashu said. "I want to know how to play your game."

"Really?" Ritsuka-chan said, a mischievous spark of hope glinting in her eye.

"It's not a terrible idea," Ritsuka-kun put in. "The rules are simple and we have a good sized group to play with, assuming we can get everyone involved." His eyes wandered over to what they had been referring to 'the round table' this evening.

Around one of the tables sat several knights of Camelot. They had become a tightly nit click ever since their summoning. The few who still remained were Lancelot, Bedievere, Gawain and Arturia, all of whom held the saber class. They were fully engrossed in their conversation, completely unaware at the attention they were receiving from a neighboring table. Ritsuka-kun's eyes lingered longest on the blond woman, whose bight green eyes reflected unshakeable loyalty for her comrades. His attention returned when the golden archer next to him scoffed again.

"If you can manage such a feat, than perhaps I would humor you and join in this peasant game."

"Challenge accepted!" Ritsuka-chan said, jumping up and walking purposefully across the cafeteria to where Merlin and his Mesopotamian king sat sharing a bottle of wine.

"Hum, such audacious confidence could almost be considered inspiring. Even coming from a mongrel," mused the golden archer.

"You know Senpai," Mashu said quietly. "You never know if she will join us if you don't go ask her to."

"What!" Ritsuka-kun exclaimed. "I wasn't going to ask Arturia Pendragon to join us. That would be way to embarrassing."

"Yes you were," Emiya said, not looking up from his rice bowl.

"Do you really think she would say yes?" Ritsuka-kun asked Mashu.

"If it's you asking, I think anything is possible Senpai," Mashu responded pleasantly.

With some semblance of courage, Ritsuka-kun walked over to 'the round table.' Hesitantly, he said, "Um… Saber? I have a question for you." Unwittingly, Ritsuka-kun gained the attention of all the heroic spirits sitting at the table. "Would you like to join us all in a game?"

"A game?" the King of Knights responded "What would be the purpose of this game?"

Ritsuka-kun should have expected that Arturia would search for the practical reason for playing. Yet he was surprised that her first question was not about the nature of the game itself, which ended up working in his favor. "It's a way to get to know everyone better, in a sense..." was his reply.

"Why would such information be important," Gawain asked, scowling slightly. "We are warriors, not friends."

"But knowing your allies in battle can prove to be useful-" Ritsuka-kun started.

"Strengths and weaknesses can be assessed without frivolous games," Gawain interrupted.

"Some strengths and weaknesses are not determinable through observations of physical prowess," Lancelot commented, intentionally supporting his master. "And those traits are some of the most pertinent when interacting with your companions; during battle or otherwise."

"You could also think of it as trust building," threw in Ritsuka-kun.

"Humm…" Arturia muttered, silencing the table. "That reason seems favorable to continued efforts towards the Grand Order. Very well, we shall participate."

Bedivere, the only one of the four who sat opposite Arturia at the table, nodded in favor of his king's decision. Gawain and Lancelot both seemed happy with their leader's choice. Grinning brightly, Ritsuka-kun rejoined Mashu and Gilgamesh the Archer.

Meanwhile, Ritsuka-chan was having her own discussion with Gilgamesh the caster and Merlin.

"A game you say? Will it amuse me, mongrel?" the king was saying.

"I-I can't guarantee that…" Ritsuka-chan admitted, fidgeting with her skirt.

"You won't know until you try it you Gil," Merlin said. He turned and smiled at the master. "I for one am intrigued."

"Such impudence," Gilgamesh sighed, surprising Ritsuka-chan by not showing the same level arrogance as his younger self. "How many times must I tell you not to call me that?"

"Only once more, as always my lord," Merlin smiled, having no intention of changing his pet name for the man.

"Fine. But if I am playing, Merlin is too," Gilgamesh decided, taking a sip of wine that suggested no further arguments would be permitted.

"Fantastic, I'll go let everyone know!" Ritsuka-chan bounced back to her table to announce her victory.

Upon the return of both masters, Gilgamesh the archer agreed to play along. With building excitement, one that enthralled Mashu and drew curios stares from the rest of the servants, Ritsuka-chan designed to arrange the four occupied tables so that everyone could sit facing each other. Caster Cu Chulainn decided to help with Merlin and Caster Gilgamesh's table.

"I didn't think you wanted to play," his lancer counterpart commented, getting up from the master's table.

"You should know very well how interesting I find this game. Besides I can't be out done by the two of you." Caster replied.

"The two of us?" Lancer questioned.

"He also seems to be invested in this," Caster responded, gesturing at Berserker.

A glance at Berserker's table was all Lancer needed to see what Caster was referring to. That silent stare frozen to Berserker's face was known all too well by the three of them. Only they knew that the unreadable expression was the exact expression they would make when something had completely captured their interest. Due to the madness enchantment, Berserker's focus was all the more powerful.

"Tch," Lancer clicked in a manner greatly resembling Emiya's.

The aforementioned archer did not miss this, and it annoyed him greatly, but he was quickly distracted.

"Come help me push this table back Archer!" Astolfo said brightly, already up and prepared to shove the furniture back.

"Why are you assuming that I am going to play with you?" Emiya asked pointedly.

"Of course you are. It wouldn't make sense if one of the few people who know how to play this game doesn't play," Astolfo stated as if this were obvious.

"And if I decline," Emiya said, clearly hinting at his intention to do so.

"Out of the question Archer," Ritsuka-kun stated. "You promised to support your master in their endeavors right?" Ritsuka-kun's hard look told Emiya there was no way out of this.

Emiya pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "If it's for her, than I will do it," he finally conceded.

Once the tables were arranged, everyone sat on one of the inside benches, save for Bedivere, who sat upon 'the round table' to better see over his tall saber companions, and Astolfo, who in their excitement sat on the table between Emiya and Cu Chulainn the Berserker, feet dangling between the two on the bench.

"What are the rules Senpai?" Mashu asked.

Ritsuka-chan stood, "The name of the game is Truth or Dare. I think it is best explained with an example. The first person chooses someone from the group, only one person, and asks them to pick between revealing a truth of the asker's choosing or preforming a dare that the asker decides. So-um… Ritsuka-kun, truth or dare?"

"We can start out simply. Truth," the male master responds.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" Ritsuka-chan asked.

The other master paused for a moment. "I thought I said to start out simple-" Ritsuka-kun began.

"WHAT!" the red head exclaimed. "You haven't! I thought for sure you had."

"I have," the now awkward boy defended. "Kind of…"

"How do you 'kind of' kiss a girl?" Astolfo asked.

"The girls in elementary school would play this game, where they would pick a boy from class and get married to them. We mostly tried to run away from them, but if the girls caught us we would have to go through their marriage ceremony. I was unlucky, because I was the first one to get caught, and I was told I had to kiss the bride or it wouldn't be right… So I did…."

"You don't seem too happy about that," Cu Chulainn the lancer commented.

"I'm not. It was a forced kiss and my first kiss. I wanted my first kiss to be special and it was just some stupid joke in elementary. I cried in front of everyone," Ritsuka-kun admitted through gritted teeth.

There was a short moment of silence before anyone spoke again. Lancer ended up being the one to break the silence. "You know lad, there is a difference between sharing a kiss and someone giving you a kiss. A kiss is more than just two lips pressing against each other. You could say that your kiss didn't count because it was forced."

Ritsuka-kun looked up, a little bit of relief glowing in his eyes. "Thanks Lancer," he muttered.

"Anyway," Ritsuka-chan said, clapping her hands hoping to defuse the tension. "That is how the game is played! The idea is to ask difficult questions or make the dares super embarrassing so the other person doesn't want to do them. You get two chances to chicken out. After you use both chickens you have to forfeit the game, but you can hang out and watch if you want!"

The male master, now recovered from his upset, jumped in to help Ritsuka-chan explain the rules. "The chickens can be used like a skip turn, so you don't have to answer the question or do the dare and the person who asked you doesn't get to ask another thing."

"Now that I have targeted Ritsuka-kun, it is his turn to ask someone in the group," the female master added.

"That's right, but I can't return the question back to Ritsuka-chan. I have to ask someone else."

As the servants absorbed the rules, the all ended up coming to the same conclusion. This wasn't just a game, but a test of daring. The winner would be the one who was not forced to forfeit. No one wanted to lose, not to any of the others. An air of competition filled the cafeteria as Ritsuka-kun chose the first real target, and the game began in earnest.

"Emiya, truth or dare?"

The red archer, still disgruntled that he had to participate at all, begrudgingly said, "Truth."

"Have you ever slept with another man before?" the question lept out of the master's mouth as if he had been wondering for a long time.

"Yes," came the blunt, one word response.

"Really?! Who with?!" Astolfo asked.

"I don't believe details are required to answer the question," the counter guardian replied, not even giving the hero sitting next to him the favor of looking their way.

"Aw Archer, don't be such a stick in the mud," scolded Cu Chulainn the Caster. "Tell us about it."

The smile on Caster's face and the blood vein beginning to jump in Archer's neck made the masters begin to wonder if Caster knew something about Emiya's mysterious rendezvous.

"No," Emiya said flatly.

"Spoil sport," Caster muttered quietly enough that only Merlin, who was sitting next to the mage of Ulster, could hear.

"Lancer," picked Emiya, who had not managed to break the habit of calling Cu Chulainn that from the fifth Holy Grail War, "truth or dare?"

"Dare," said the blue haired lancer confidently. He both was wary of Archer's shred cleverness and wanted to prove that he was not too afraid to take on a challenge.

Archer's mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. That was the answer he had been hoping to get. "I dare you to summon your spear, point it into the air and shout 'Gay Bulge' as loud as you can."

The female master covered her mouth with her hand, doing her best to hide her growing smirk. Lancer cocked an eyebrow, clearly not understanding Emiya's motivations.

"Alright, that's not difficult," he said dismissively. Summoning the legendary spear, he posed dramatically for the group to see, one foot rested on the end of the bench. He hoisted the spear into the air as if he were aiming to launch the weapon over some wall. Taking a deep breath, he shouted "GAY BULGE!" Energy snapped and crackled around the spear as if Lancer had begun to charge up his noble phantasm.

The entire room burst into laughter.

"Lancer," Arturia gasped, "that was almost disgraceful to your heroic name, but I can't seem to stop laughing."

Both masters were laughing too hard to speak, sides heaving erratically. Caster Cu Chulainn, who had anticipated this outcome, just gave Lancer a pitying look as Merlin and Caster Gilgamesh giggled beside him. Berserker, clearly feeling the embarrassment of his alter, leaned towards Emiya, vengeance looming in his eyes.

"There there Berserker Cu," Astolfo stepped in, placing his head directly in Berserker's line of sight. "There's no need to get so upset, it's only fun and games." He was doing his best to diffuse a potentially dangerous bomb.

Berserker withdrew, but still glared menacingly at the red archer. Emiya was too caught up in his stifled laughter to notice, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Lancer, the growl of a wild dog rumbling in his throat, found himself unprepared for his audience's reaction. "ARCHER!" he barked, "Truth or dare."

"I believe it is against the rules to ask me directly after I asked you," reminded Emiya.

"Since when have you been so hung up on the rules," commented Lancelot quietly. There had been some tension between him and Emiya ever since Lancelot had discovered the archer had once fancied the King of Knights.

"Fine," spat Cu Chulainn. "Merlin, truth or dare."

"Truth," decides the wise mage, amusement still dancing in his eyes.

This causes Lancer pause. He takes a moment to consider the best question to ask of the incubus. "If you had to pick, which king would you rather serve, Gilgamesh or Arturia?"

As innocent as the question sounded leaving Lancer's mouth, the connotations of the question were a bit of a trigger point between two specific heroic spirits in the room. Their attention had immediately snapped to Merlin, whose front of confidence faltered for a moment. The room grew steadily quieter as Merlin pondered the question.

"That is a difficult to answer, for both kings have excellent merits that the other does not. I think, as my pride and joy, I would be most honored to serve King Arthur, if the decision were up to me." He then bowed his snow white head to Arturia, "My Lord."

"And I would be honored to accept should the circumstance arise," replied the King of Knights, bowing in return.

Bedivere shifted uncomfortable upon the table, knowing that this exact question had been haunting Arturia since they had discovered Merlin in Mesopotamia.

Gilgamesh the Caster, who was sitting next to Merlin, appeared tense as he sipped his wine. "I hope you do not come to regret that decision mongrel," he commented.

"Come now Gil, I made no real decision on the matter. The question was hypothetical in nature. Had I really been forced to make that choice, it would not come without heavy personal sacrifice. There is no need to be so angry." Merlin laid a palm on the other caster's shoulder.

The other servants, and even the masters, who did not know the King of Heroes so well, hadn't even noticed Gilgamesh's upset, at least not until they turned and saw the golden archer practically fuming at Camelot's mage. Yet, he held his tongue.

"Moving on. Mashu, would you prefer a truth or a dare?" Merlin asked gently.

"I dunno. It seems neither option is any easier than the other." In that moment, Mashu voiced a fact that only a small few of the other servants had yet to realize.

"Do not fret youngster, I promise not to be cruel to you," Merlin reassured.

"Ok, dare then."

Merlin thought for a moment. "Kiss one of the masters," he finally said.

"Oh," Mashu said, blushing bright red. "Which one?"

"That, my dear, you have to choose for yourself," Merlin answered.

Everyone expected Mashu to stutter and be indecisive. Everyone expected her to blush and get so nervous she couldn't move. Everyone expected the adorable shielder to end up chickening out of this dare out of pure embarrassment. To everyone's surprise, Mashu sucked in a deep breath, leaned over, and kissed Ritsuka-chan's cheek.

"Me?!" she squeaked, blushing scarlet and avoiding all eye contact.

Cu Chulainn gave a wolf whistle.

"Does that really count?" asked Arturia.

"I think it satisfies all the requirements of my dare," said Merlin, winking at Mashu.

"Right," Mashu said, clearing her throat. Her confidence was uncharacteristic, yet very becoming of the young lady. "Lancelot, truth or dare?" The steadiness of her voice and evenness of her expression gave the other servants an inkling that something was out of place in the young shielder. Yet it was only the masters and Bedivere who picked up the reason for Mashu's change in demeanor.

"Dare." The Knight of the Lake commits to the choice without even considering that sweet, innocent Mashu may have sinister motives.

Mashu's face remains expressionless as she says, "On hands and knees, with your honor at stake, praise me as a knight superior to you and all your glory. Tell me, despite all of your arrogance, in light of all of your faults, that I, your son, became a better knight than you ever were."

The room became deathly silent. The Knights of the Round Table all sat frozen around Lancelot, holding their breath. Rigidly, Lancelot stood up from his seat, and crossed the open space to kneel before Mashu.

"Galahad, my dear son; there has never been a doubt in my mind that you were not just a better knight than your father, but the best knight out of any man I ever knew." He bowed his head, not able to bear looking into Mashu's face any longer. "If you will accept it, I would pledge my honor to that fact. Although, that honor might not be worth very much anymore. As you said, my life was littered with unforgivable mistakes."

Reaching out, Mashu rested a hand on the saber's shoulder. "I forgive you," she said.

To the others in the room, the statement didn't make much sense, but to the two heroes, those three words said more than any millions that could have passed between them. Arturia, familiar with their strained relationship, smiled proudly at her knights. Lancelot looked close to bursting into tears, barely restraining from pulling Mashu into a tight hug. Although most of the onlookers were not privy to the context of the exchange, most breathed out a sigh of relief or let out a chuckle at the father and son duo.

After Lancelot had composed himself and returned to his seat, he chose the next person to go. "Astolfo, truth or dare?"

"Alright! I get a turn. Dare! I pick a dare!" Astolfo gushed excitedly. "Do your worst," they said, voice lowering dramatically.

"What a shame, I had the perfect truth for you," Lancelot sighed quietly to his companions.

"Is there a way you can turn it into a dare?" Bedivere suggested.

"That, my friend, is an excellent idea," Lancelot conferred quietly. "Ok Astolfo, prove to us all here, once and for all, beyond a shadow of a doubt, whether you are a boy or a girl."

"Really, you all are still stuck on that?" Astolfo said exasperated. "Fine, fine. If this is really what you all want."

Jumping off the table, Astolfo strode to the center of the clearing. In one fell swoop, the hero slid their skirt to the floor. A general jumping and surprised squealing traveled around the group. Ritsuka-chan quickly slapped her hand over Mashu's eyes. Lancelot and Gawain did the same for Arturia, who immediately scolded them both and reminded them how they traipsed around nude in front of her themselves during their youth. Cu Chulainn the berserker leaned around casually, doing his best to peer around at Astolfo's front.

Crossing his arms and staring around the group, Astolfo said with conviction, "If there are any further questions I'd be happy to show you more."

"That's unnecessary," said Lancelot quickly, gesturing for Astolfo to pull up his skirt.

Astolfo redressed and returned to his spot on the table. Emiya noticeable sifted away from him slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Now then, how about you Ritsuka-chan. Truth or dare Master?"

"How about a dare, I'm feeling up to it." the bubbly girl replies.

"Ok, show everyone here what color panties you are wearing tonight!" Astolfo giggled.

"Wha- Astolfo!" Ritsuka-chan exclaimed. "That's not fair- No!" She wasn't able to put together a coherent sentence from the shock.

"What's unfair about it? I just showed everyone my genitals, a little bit of cloth shouldn't be out of the question," Astolfo responded.

"But-"

"Are you going to chicken out?" Ritsuka-kun asked, smiling mischievously.

She would be the first one to chicken out, and Ritsuka-chan knew this. Scrunching up her nose and clenching her fists, the Chaldea master drew upon all of her courage. Standing up, she turned around and lifted up the hem of her skirt. To the crowd behind her, Ritsuka-chan revealed a very regular pair of pink and white stripped panties. Her eyes were shut tight and her knees were pulled inwards as embarrassment flooded her body. She missed the nods of approval and look of slight disappointment on Ritsuka-kun's face. He had been hoping to tease her about being the first to chicken out over a clothing reveal.

She did not miss the golden archer's arrogant command. "Turn around mongrel, I cannot see."

This caused Ritsuka-chan to start, dropping her skirt and turning furiously to Gilgamesh. "That isn't my problem!"

"I believe you were supposed to show us all your under garments, and I could not see," he replied, chin held high and self-righteous smirk fixed firmly to his face.

"And I did, you not choosing to get a better look is not my fault," Ritsuka-chan huffed, sitting back down. "Right Astolfo?"

"Absolutely," Astolfo chimed in, sniggering at their banter. "And they were quite lovely. Gilgamesh, you really missed out. Tell me, are you wearing a matching brassiere?"

The small red head nodded before quickly catching herself. "You don't get to ask a question and give a dare in the same turn, that's cheating," she scolded, hoping that no one had caught her slip up.

Everyone had, but on one was interested in pointing it out to the already flustered master.

"Alright then Gilgamesh," Ritsuka-chan continued, staring pointedly at the golden archer, "truth or dare?"

"Truth, I doubt you are capable of creating a dare that would truly challenge me," Gilgamesh the archer proclaimed.

"Have you ever considered sleeping with another version of yourself? I mean, it's basically masturbating isn't it?" she asked.

This question caused many of the servants around the clearing began pondering the idea themselves. Most servants had an alter of some kind, although their relationships with their alters varied greatly. Cu Chulainn, for one, had a notably good relationship with most of his other selves. At the moment, both his caster form and present lancer form caught each other stealing glances. Berserker, who's gaze was being careful avoided by the other two, fixed the young lancer with a blank stare, one that remained for a very long time.

Gilgamesh sighed, as if the question bored him. "I am a pursuer of limitless pleasure. Should even a trifle notion of unknown excitement come into my awareness I am apt to try it. Your question is meaningless mongrel."

"That doesn't answer the question," Emiya pointed out.

"There is no need to answer a question that already has a suitable answer," Gilgamesh said, finding no flaw in his reasoning.

"I think that's against the rules," Ritsuka-kun added in.

"I am the rules," Gilgamesh states, clearly believing the conversation to be over.

Across the clearing, Gilgamesh the caster was nodding in agreement, much to the bemusement of Merlin and the annoyance of Lancer Cu Chulainn.

The rest of the evening drew on with the same level of hi-jinks. A few bouts were quickly culled by the more level headed in the group, and Ritsuka-kun only felt worried that he might have to use a command seal once. Cu Chulainn the caster ended up being the first of the group to chicken out, when a dare came up that he deemed too embarrassing to attempt, although the wording was innocent enough. Merlin found such wisdom to be worth complimenting and it sparked a conversation between the two that left them majorly distracted for the rest of the night.

The game came to an end when someone had finally worked up the courage to ask the berserker 'truth or dare.' Cu Chulainn had not responded to the question at all, and just stared Gawain down silently. Once the uncomfortable silence had stretched on too long, Ritsuka-chan decided to end the game for the night. It was a late night at Chaldea after all, and time for everyone to turn in.


	2. Mastrabation (Part One)

"Master-kun, wait up for a second!" I hollered down the hall, waving my hand.

Ahead of me, I saw the dark haired boy pause for a second before rounding the corner. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "Cu Caster! Sorry, I didn't see you there. What do you need?"

I felt a little leap of joy at the nick name. In my day I had become so famous very few dared to act familiar with me. I had grown sick of formalities, and the endearing term left me a little nostalgic for my lost boy-troop. Yet, this did little to calm the anxiety I was carrying about the question I wanted to ask Ritsuka-kun. Pinching my thumb and index finger together, a nervous habit I hadn't been able to kick, I steeled my resolve.

"I'd like to ask you a question, but it's kinda personal. Is there somewhere we can go?"

"Sure." Glancing around, Ritsuka-kun spotted the open doorway to our left. "No one seems to be in this research room at the moment. How about we chat in here?"

I nodded in agreement, my hood shifting lightly around my ears. Intentionally, I had covered my very noticeable, blue hair to avoid attention. Not that my hood had become any less distinct at Chaldea. I followed master into the study and paced the room while he shut the door.

"What's the matter Cu? I haven't seen you this agitated before. Not any of you for that matter."

Again he used the pet name. I had a sneaking suspicion that master was trying to put me at ease. Was I really exuding that much of my internal turmoil?

"I've got something on my mind. Something I've been thinking about since we played Truth or Dare that one night," I admitted, finding myself dancing around the subject like a nervous school boy. I felt pathetic.

"But that was weeks ago," Ritsuka-kun muttered to himself. "Wanna sit down Cu?" he asked, gesturing to one of the rolling chairs.

I stopped my pacing and sat heavily in the chair. Yet I couldn't just sit still. I huffed and tossed my hood back, ruffling my hair in an attempt to calm myself. Sometimes I could be too easily frazzled.

"What made you sit with this for so long? You know you can always come to me for anything," my master said, also sitting in a rolling chair.

"Oh?" I said, crossing my arms. I was deflecting my insecurity with coyness.

"I extend that offer to all the servants here. You can tell me anything, and I promise I will do what I can to help. I may not be that helpful in the end, but I want to be available. That's the least I can offer you after everything you all have done for me."

I let his words steady me. Clasping my hands and leaning my forearms on my legs, I decided to let the words come out as they would. I had never been known for my subtlety.

"It's about the truth Ritsuka-chan asked of Gilgamesh, you must remember the one, when she asked if he had been sleeping with himself."

He nodded, encouraging me to go on.

"Well, the idea really interested me. It's been on my mind since then, and I'm sure it has for the others as well. I mean, they are me after all, and if it's been on my mind it will have been on theirs. Gah! This is exactly the problem!" I shouted suddenly. "I have been thinking too much. Whenever I'm around myself I feel self-conscious. I'm just not used to feeling so uncomfortable. With Lancer and Prototype it's not as much of a problem. But with Berserker-"

At this point Ritsuka-kun cut me off with an ironic laugh. "And here we all thought you three were already screwing each other!"

"We?" I asked, more meekly than I intended.

Master completely ignored me. "If it's Berserker you are worried about, then you can relax. Berserker won't do anything to you, I promise."

I tilted my head a little to the side, having absolutely no idea where Master's conviction game from.

"When we gained the ability to summon berserkers at Chaldea, Da Vinci altered the madness enchantment a little. When a berserker is summoned to our facility, the madness does not extend to their sexuality. In fact, it will have the opposite effect on their libido. Long explanation short, your Berserker form doesn't have sexual urges."

"Hum, interesting," I said, leaning back and crossing my arms. I couldn't decide if I was upset that some flimsy European mage had managed to magically castrate my alter or impressed at her capabilities.

"Imagine if someone like Tamamo Cat or Caligula still had their sexual urges. Just the thought gives me the shivers."

I could agree with him there.

"So don't worry about it Caster!" Ritsuka-kun seemed proud that he could reassure me so easily. "I hope I was able to help…." he trailed off, looking hopeful and insecure. After a short pause, he said "If that's everything, I do have something to take care of elsewhere." Mater stood from the chair and made his way to the door. "Thank you for coming to me with this Cu. I appreciate your trust in me," he said at the doorway, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks.

I listened to his footsteps echo down the hall, catching the light tenner of Mashu's voice when she said, "Senpai, there you are. Kiyohime is looking for you." Their presence faded shortly after that.

I stayed seated a moment longer, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Not only did I feel like I could to stop avoiding Berserker, but I felt free to peruse one of my younger selves. Getting up, I strode down the hallway opposite the direction Ritsuka-kun had gone. Walking briskly, I tucked my thumbs into my belt and began to whistle.

I happened upon Lancer not long after starting my walk. He had been sitting in his room busy cleaning his spear. I decide to pop my head in.

"Ah, Gae Bolg," I commented longingly.

Lancer looked up. "Yeah," he smiled cheekily. "It may be in perfect condition, but I never tire of this." He looked down at the long, red spear lovingly. "Want to join me?" Lancer asked. It was no secret to him how much I miss my old companion, now that my class prevents me from summoning it.

I walked in and sat on the bed next to him, picking up a polishing cloth. Rubbing the material fondly below the hilt, I reveled in the familiar sensations of my old weapon. Gae Bolg felt exactly how I remembered. The sturdy wood, pulsating with divine power, responded instantly to my touch. Waves of power emanated from my finger tips and worked their way down the spear, strengthening the pole and sharpening the point. I smiled reminiscently down at my lap.

"It must be really tough being separated from our spear," my companion commented.

"Mmm," I grunted, noncommittally, eyes transfixed on the spear in my lap.

"Man, I really do look pathetic when I'm depressed. No wonder Medb is always trying to keep me happy."

I looked up at Lancer. He was tidying up the cleaning tools.

"Enough of this," Lancer said, dismissing Gae Bolg. "Let's get you cheered up. I'm sure, between the two of us, we can think of something. After all, you have quite a brilliant mind." As he said this, he ran a hand behind my ear, tucking a few stray strands of hair out of the way.

I shivered. The sly dog, he knew very well what that spot did to me. But this is a game he would not win. I was, after all, more experienced.

"You know," I said, reaching over and running a thumb under Lancer's lower lip. "I have had this idea for a while now…." I trailed off suggestively.

"Oh? Now what might that be Caster?" Lancer asked, sounding as if he knew exactly what I was going to say.

"Something that requires a little bit more privacy," I said, standing up and shutting the door.

When I turned around, Lancer was right behind me. "Well now Caster, I didn't know you felt that way about yourself." He smiled ruefully.

"Yes you did," I stated, watching as his lips hovered inches from mine.

"You want to try it then?" Lancer asked, just making the situation clear. "The thing master suggested to that golden narcissist?"

"Let's give it a go," I confirmed.

With permission granted from both sides, Lancer leaned in for the kiss. Attempting to get an early lead, the man pressed me against the door and shoved his knee between my legs. The sensation was fantastic, having both my balls and my tongue played with at the same time. He may be quick, but I was more level headed. I wasn't about to let myself become overwhelmed just yet.

Reaching up, I ran my fingers through the hair along his temples. I avoided the soft skin just behind his ears until my fingertips made their way to the back of his neck. Then I pressed my thumbs into the sensitive flesh just behind the jaw bone. Already he was shivering and losing track of the pace of his knee. Unwilling to let the pleasure between my legs end, I unashamedly rubbed myself against his leg. Slowly, I was beginning to win dominance in our mouths.

Testing out my power over Lancer, I began to guide us backwards to the bed. Upon reaching the mattress, Lancer immediately collapsed backwards. I swiftly crouched between his legs, watching his dilated eyes follow me closely. His face was already quiet flushed and he was breathing heavily. Placing a hand on each hip, I prepared to pull off his pants.

"Up," I commanded.

Lancer readily complied, lifting his buttocks from the bed so I could slide off his tight leathers.

"Good boy," I murmured, glancing up to see Lancers expression.

A small flicker of annoyance crossed his face while a growl formed at the back of his throat. Yet, the attitude is short lived as I shoved his hardened shaft deep into my own throat. The growl swiftly morphd into a moan as I began playing with him.

I am not unfamiliar with oral sex. When I was young, still training under Scathach, my best friend Ferdiad and I did all sorts of sexual experiments on each other. Therefore, not only did I know how to use my mouth, but I knew exactly what I liked best. I could picture the sensation so vividly in my mind I almost felt the warm pressure slipping across my penis. Just the memory generated pronounced stiffening in my groin. It was almost, and at the same time exactly, like I was sucking my own dick.

I decided to give him the look. The look that said was doing my best to hide how very turned on I was with just Lancer's dick in my mouth. The look that countless women, and even my poor friend Ferdiad, had given me long ago. It was a look that I knew would be absurdly seductive to my Lancer counterpart.

In response, he grabbed me under the chin and pulled me up. Grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, Lancer tossed me onto the bed. He made short work of my clothing. By the time I had come to my senses enough to take stock of what was happening Lancer had me almost bare before him.

"Hang on, why am I on the bottom?" I asked indignantly, noticing that Lancer was sucking on two of his fingers.

"You're the one who stirred me up this much," Lancer said confidently. "Reap what you sow Caster," he said, tearing a large hole in my long underwear.

"You animal," I grumbled.

But before I could make a move to swap our positions, the man above me shoved his partially lubricated fingers into my anus.

"As ucht De! Don't be so hasty you beast!" I exclaimed as pain ripped through my abdomen.

"You'll get used to it," Lancer decided for me, slowing down only a negligible amount.

As much as I had fooled around with Ferdiad, I had never done something like this before in my entire life. Not even close. I also couldn't recollect a master who was so domineering as to challenge my position in bed. Yet, I didn't feel anxious in the slightest. I was in my own hands after all. After a short while, I did indeed begin to feel nice.

That was until Lancers fingers slid across one particularly sensitive spot. A garbled, choking moan tore from my throat. My vision went blurry as my eyes crossed unexpectedly. Gasping, my mind barely recognized the experience as intense pleasure.

"Oh? Did that feel good?" Lancer asked rhetorically as he rubbed the spot again, harder than before.

This time my legs were left trembling and twitching out of my control. I don't even know if I had moaned or not. Draping an arm over my eyes, I hid my gaze from Lancer. Even in front of myself this was embarrassing.

"No wonder Ferdiad had wanted to do this to me. I make a very erotic picture in this state," I heard Lancer mutter.

Peeking out from under my elbow, I caught a glimpse of Lancer's penis. He was just as hard as before, a little bit of pre-ejaculate shining at the tip. "You had better find some proper lubricant before sticking that in me," I threatened. Although, my intimidation was reduced by the quiver I had in my voice.

"Say again? Did you want this inside of you?" Lancer asked, pretending to have heard me wrong.

"You heard me," I shot back, glaring into his smiling, red eyes.

"Why wait then?" he asked, spitting into his hand and rubbing himself.

"No, Lancer I'm s-"

I didn't get a chance to finish as Lancer shoved his dick inside of me. If I felt any semblance of pleasure, I didn't take notice. A terrible burning sensation overrode anything else. I growled in pain. Then I clobbered him, my fist bouncing off his temple.

"Cul Tona," I gritted out. Once Lancer had refocused on me, I gave him the sharpest glare I could muster. "Give me your hand," I demanded. Drawing a simple earth rune in the air, I summoned some seed oil. "Use this or I'm gonna knock your teeth in."

"Alright," he said, pulling out as tenderly as he could. "Sorry."

A little dejectedly, Lancer spread the oil across his genitals. Yet, dismay faded quickly as the oil warmed up and his hand brushed over his head. Growling, I grabbed the scruff of Lancers neck and pulled him into a toothy kiss. I bit into his lower lip, reminding him how much I hated being ignored. Having intended to give a playful nip, I was a little surprised when Lancer decided to enter me at that precise moment. Instead, I bit down hard, noticing the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Now it was his turn to growl.

Pulling his lip from my teeth, Lancer spat blood across the room. "My, my. Does it feel that good Caster?" he asked, pulling out and slamming himself back into me.

I gasped and moaned, the nerves around my anus dancing in pleasure as I was stretched wondrously. I grinned up at him cheekily. "Your fingers were better."

"Tch," Lancer clicked his tongue.

He began to pound into me roughly, reminding me of how I had made love to the women in my past. The feeling was nice, but it was nothing compared to earlier. Slowly regaining my self-awareness, I watched Lancer above me. His face was screwed up in pleasure, eyebrows knitted together and jaw hanging loosely open. Then he decided to start playing with my dick.

"Lancer," I grunted, finding the added stimulus more distracting than exciting.

"What, you got to play with my spear earlier. Now it's my turn."

Annoyed, I reached forwards and shoved his hand away from my penis. Driving forward, I grasped his hips tightly; something that I knew would tip the power balance in my favor. With tight, warm pressure on each of his hip bones, Lancer reflexively slammed his pelvis into my ass, inadvertently brushing hard past that one bundle of nerves the man had found not long ago.

Howling with pleasure, my mind became overwhelmed by that intense feeling once again. It was all I could do to cling on to Lancer's hips.

"You sure change your tune fast," he huffed, grasping my shoulders to help keep me in that position.

He did not stop his assault on my ass. Humping quickly and firmly, Lancer rolled his sizeable penis around the unsuspecting bundle of nerves relentlessly. Each time he passed over whatever it was, some lewd and garbled sound tore from my throat. I even began drooling, saliva pooling in one of my ears. Between the barking coughs and moaning howls, I wasn't able to keep track of time passing. This felt better than even a trip to the Otherworld.

When the building ecstasy finally came to a head, my vision went completely white. Every fiber of my being shook like a reed in a stream. The mattress pressing into my back, my fingernails digging into Lancer's hips, Lancer's dick sliding up and down my rectum, all became infinitely more pronounced and unbelievably more stimulating. I will never admit to being surprised at how far my semen shot, erupting from the end of my penis like an exploding volcano. I was Cu Chulainn after all.

Lancer, for his part, never ceased in his pursuit of pleasure through the entire ordeal. For some time after I was sure that I was completely spent, he continued to fuck me like a maiden. The heightened sensitivity of my body and my quickly fading sense of reality caused me to lose track of how many times I orgasmed. For all I know I may have just experienced one very long orgasm where fluids did not cease to drip and shoot out of me.

When he was finally done, Lancer pulled swiftly out of me. He sounded refreshed, stretching out his legs and cracking his neck. I remained exactly where I had collapsed, although I don't remember doing so. Still reeling from the most fantastic sexual experience I had ever had in my life, I allowed my body to melt into the mattress. Sweat, tears and saliva were all dripping from my face and my body was practically vibrating I was so shaky.

Eventually, the light behind my lazily drooped eyelids began to cause my some annoyance. Still covered in ejaculate, I rolled unapologetically over and buried my face in one of the pillows.

"Hey," Lancer wined. "Caster, that's gross."

"I'm tired," I mumbled back, muffled by the wonderfully plush pillow.

"Quit your bitchin and get up. At least go take a shower or something."

At the poorly concealed dog insult, I grabbed the other pillow and tossed it in the direction of his voice. This, I did not quite manage to accomplish. My limbs had an inexplicable weakness, so the pillow missed the target and landed on me instead.

"At least go sleep in your own room." Lancer sounded exasperated.

Technically, Lancer and I were the same person, so technically this was my room. I had no intention of getting up. The call of sleep was far too enticing. None of this, I bothered to tell my other self, as I drifted off into a welcome slumber.

Meanwhile, Berserker was relaxing after winding down from his own day. Idly, his thoughts began to stray towards his other selves. He wondered if their minds worked in the same way his did, and if they too had been having the same thoughts as he. Before his gaze a white, slimy substance stretched between his clawed fingers. Rubbing his fingers together, Berserker brought his hand to his nose. With a curious sniff, he licked slowly along the length of his finger.

No, he decided, those three were defiantly not thinking the same thing he was. But he would find a way to make them.


	3. A Secret Bath

There was a rumor that King Gilgamesh had a bath tub. It was a rumor because the Chaldea staff never built a bath in the facility. There were communal showers, separated by gender, but no baths. To think that someone had a bath tub, a private one at that, was truly unbelievable. To achieve such would require the world to stabilize so that renovators could be hired, or a level of mage craft that was so great it was beyond comprehension of even the greatest caster himself. Both scenarios were entirely impossible.

But, as a master of Chaldea, it was my duty to find out. Since I was largely in charge of the servants on at Chaldea, it was in my best interest to quell rumors quickly. At least that was the excuse I had prepared if anyone asked me why I was snooping around Gilgamesh's room. In all honesty, I was really longing to take a nice, warm soak in the tub, if it existed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a bath. Considering how much trouble I had to face every day, I deserved something simple and relaxing.

Checking Archer's room was easy enough. He was fairly outgoing, spending his time conversing with the other residents. His conversations were never frivolous. The king seemed to take pleasure from poking at people's insecurities. Fortunately for him, there were plenty of short tempered spirits around to torment. Unfortunately for me, his room did not contain the illusive bath tub.

Caster was another matter entirely. You could say he was more withdrawn than the other Gilgamesh. He spent more time in his room, likely avoiding certain heroic spirits, than he did doing anything else. This was a habit I didn't notice until I began the hunt for his bath tub. I suppose I never noticed because whenever he was out and about he would unintentionally draw everyone's attention. Eventually I grew tiered to waiting and just asked his drinking partner to distract him for me.

I should have known Merlin would not conspire with me unless he knew the reason. When he discovered the truth, he smiled impishly at me.

"There's no need to slip in and take a look Ritsu-chan. I can tell you the rumor is true, for I have seen it myself," he proclaimed.

"You have?!" I asked, excitement slipping into my voice.

"I have indeed. So perhaps instead I can help you in another matter," the half demon offered. "You said you wanted to relax, did you not?"

I nodded cautiously, feeling slightly worried about what Merlin was suggesting.

"Then how about I give you something to help you put your spirit at ease," he said, putting his charisma to use. From his very large sleeves, Merlin pulled out a package. He placed it gently in my hands, still smiling brightly.

At first glance, the package appeared to contain bath salts. Small grains of pink sediments were piled into a small, plastic bag. Around the edges I could smell a strong, but pleasant, perfume of flowers and fruit. The top of the bag was closed with a paper label folded over the end and stapled shut. On the label, written in messy cursive, were the words 'sensual bath gel.' Ah, so that was his trick. I thought.

"Merlin, what are these," I asked, playing dumb.

"They are minerals you put in your bath that help you relax and make you feel good," he supplied. "On contact with water, the minerals turn into small gel beads. They help massage muscles and pull toxins out of the fibers. There's also a moisturizing effect."

"Wow," I said, pretending I didn't notice how he said the words 'feel good.' "That reminds me of something I had at home once. Where did you get these?"

"I didn't get them anywhere, I made them," Merlin stated matter-of-factly.

I considered refusing the gift immediately. I will not be using 'sensual bath anything' hand made by an incubus. No way. Yet, he did make the experience quite tempting. In the end I took the package, along with assurances from Merlin that I would have an opportunity use them, to my room where they sat on the edge of my mind for the next three days.

My opportunity came one night after a particularly grueling ember gathering quest. I had spent much of the day grinding out essences, much to the annoyance of the assassins I had taken with me. Having hoped to use the opportunity to bond with them, I ended up only pissing them off rather thoroughly. On accident, I had brought them along on a day where most of the monsters we were fighting had the same affinities as a caster. It was a rookie mistake, and one I had made before.

Exhausted and stressed, I was sitting slouched over a cup of hot tea in the cafeteria. There were more comfortable place to recline nearby, but I couldn't be bothered to get up right now. That was until the quiet was disturbed by the popping of a cork. Across the room, Merlin and Gilgamesh were opening up a bottle of wine, one they both seemed very intent on. As my gaze wandered over to the pair, I noticed Merlin give me a very subtle, but very intentional, wink. In a matter of seconds I was walking down the corridor to my room.

As quickly as I could, I gathered up my soap, towel, and for the hell of it, Merlin's bath salts. So what if they were designed to get me off, I wanted to relax. That's what they were ultimately meant for. Then I snuck off to Gilgamesh's secret bath tub.

To my utter delight, Gilgamesh's room was completely deserted. Even better, the ancient king also seemed to be adverse to the florescent lights provided by Chaldea. Instead, his bathroom was lit by warm candle light. I stared in reverence at the sight before me. Red candle wax was dripping off of golden candle holders and a small red rug accented the bathroom floor. The tub itself was large, made of porcelain with golden trimmings. The depth of the bath was deeper than average, and the length could easily accommodate two or more people. Slowly filling up the tub with steaming hot water, I mixed in the bath salts.

To my surprise, the minerals dissolved instantly and created a silky smooth, yet still stimulating, gelatinous mixture. As it turned out, the salts were just as Merlin described, tiny gel beads. They absorbed the water and releasing a wonderful smell of rose buds and apples. I hurriedly undressed and set my soaps on the edge of the tub. Stepping in, I was careful not to slip on the bath gels as I sank into the warm water. Sighing contentedly, I stirred the gels around with the water, helping the minerals dissolve completely.

The first thing I noticed was the amazing sensation I felt moving my body around in the tub. I had expected the gels to be like a sensory deprivation experience, but they were the opposite. When I shifted my body around, I could feel the gels beads roll against my skin. The sensation was like someone giving me a light massage or a gentle itch. I found myself seeking out the sensation, doing strange exercises in the bath just to feel the gels roll about my body.

First, I kept scissoring my legs. The scratching sensation running down my thighs was supreme, and when the gel piled up between my legs and sloshed back over my stomach I could feel my abdominal muscles relaxing. When I shifted my back to rearrange my position, the massage I felt from the beads flowing around me was so wonderful that I spent the next few minutes doing a strange mixture of sit-ups and pelvic thrusts. At last, total relaxation seeped into my bones and I lost the will to move. The gel was heavier than I thought it would be.

In blissful contentment while the steam steeped into the air and my body melted with the heat, I just lay there, soaking away my stress. I wasn't sure exactly how long I stayed in; I was too relaxed to care. Even when the swishing of cloth and light tinkling of jewelry floated into my secluded retreat, I didn't bother to move.

"What is this I see here?" came a sultry voice that could belong to only one hero. "A mongrel has slipped into my private abode?"

I grunted in agreement. Having already been caught, there was no point in denying it. I sunk a few millimeters more into the water, gel beads just touching my lower lip.

"This must be why Merlin was so insistent on that second bottle of wine. The fool should have known I would not be swain by such drivel."

I felt a slight disturbance in the water. Slitting one eye open, I peeked at the man who had intruded on my bath. Gilgamesh had lazily dragged his fingers across the surface of the gel. He was now sniffing idly at the remnants on his fingertips.

"I see, this is what is making that wonderful smell of dried grass," he muttered to himself, picking up the packaging I had discarded on the side of the tub.

I thought that comment was a little strange. The bath defiantly had a sweet, floral scent to me. Perhaps it smelled different to everyone. The concept mattered little to me.

"Very well, I'll allow it. This may prove entertaining after all," he said.

Or maybe I pretended he said that so I could validate my apathy. I wasn't listening to him anyways.

Then there was a large disturbance to in the bath water. Opening my eyes wider, I watched as Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, slid his stark naked body into the bath across from me. I couldn't find it within myself to be surprised. An idle thought flitted across my mind that this may have been exactly what Merlin had been planning all along. Since Gilgamesh had no friends and I needed stress release, it was an almost perfect setup.

Very well, I shall allow it, I thought humorously. "Coming in to join me?" I asked aloud, lazily stretching out an arm to rest across the edge of the tub.

"This is my tub, I do not need your permission to use it," he said, a touch of bite to his words.

I nodded, resting my head against the ceramic edge and closing my eyes. My bath felt just as nice with the company.

"This is quite an experience mongrel, how did you come by this?" I heard him ask, a relaxed sigh trailing on the end of his question.

I grunted noncommittally, deciding The Mage of Flowers would not be the best topic to bring up right now.

"Is your tongue tied? You must be speechless at the honor of bathing with me," Gilgamesh said conceitedly.

"Mm-humm," I hummed in agreement. I will not allow this man to destroy the small slice of heaven I have secured for myself.

I felt the gel shift again, and I wondered vaguely how Gilgamesh found the energy to move out from under the heavy warmth. Some slick fingers grasped my chin, forcing my face to look towards his.

"Is that the way you speak to your King?" Gilgamesh was starting to sound mildly offended. "Focus on me mongrel."

One of his strong thighs was pressing up against my leg, as Gilgamesh's other arm grasped mine to the edge of the tub. I opened one eye, noticing the slight blush that dusted his cheeks and the definite enlargement of his irises, the usual serpent like slits becoming almost human in appearance. Not willing to let go of my wonderful relaxation, I said something without thought of the consequences.

"Make me." My voice came out disinterested and I closed my eye again, shutting out the flickering candle light.

There was a growl above me. I must have sparked something in Gilgamesh's ego, because the next seconds, searing lips were pressed against mine. My mouth lolled open in response, relaxing into the caress of his tongue and stroking of his hand against my cheek. With tension building in my abdomen, I shifted my legs around. Slowly, I brought one of my feet up directly between his legs. Pressing the back of my foot into his sensitive ball sack, I made the king jump slightly, and then moan in pleasure as I began to massage him.

I thought the king would have expected that, since every move we made sifted the gel beads none too subtly. Perhaps Gilgamesh was wound up as well. I felt a flicker of pride as he pressed against my foot, clearly enjoying himself. Of course the 'King of Everything' would throw himself into something like this wholeheartedly, unabashed to show his enthusiasm. I slid my foot further back and curled my toes, rubbing against his grundle where I would not have to worry about pressing too hard.

In response, Gilgamesh let out another deep throated moan, and dropped his fingers from my cheek. He ran his hand down my chest, pressing beads into my flesh as he went, making sure to rub a couple of times against my nipple. I let out at breathy gasp as delight shot through me. My eyes opened, taking in the scene before me. Gilgamesh was flushed, golden hair sticking together in clumps at the end, a light pink staining the fair strands. We were both panting, mouths open loosely, but close together. Our breath mingled in the steam. He had his red eyes shut, focusing entirely on what was happening below the surface.

His hand was traveling past my bosom now, gliding down my ribs and over my hip. When I felt him slip through the gel against my thigh, I let out another gasp, eyes snapping shut again. The thrill it gave me was heaven sent. Gilgamesh rearranged our legs, his separating mine. Suddenly, I felt something hard pressing against my vagina. It was my turn to jump. How had he managed to sneak up on me like that?

Without warning, he shoved his cock inside of me. As he did so, my entire body slid against the gel, massaging and scraping against me. I let out another gasp, this one huskier and defiantly louder. My body began to tremble, not accustomed to the stimulus. I found myself clinging to his arms as he braced himself against the rim of the tub. Pressing my face close to his chest, I breathed in the smell of his musk, distinct against the floral perfume of the bath. He took a moment to steady us, my insides stretching to accommodate his girth.

"Continue," I whispered. It was not a command, but consent.

Gilgamesh started out slow, but sped up quite quickly. The moment he moved the gel beads began to swirl around us. Each bead rolled across our skin, shifting between our bodies and rubbing deliciously against our pleasure points. I could feel them not just against my back and thighs, but also along my chest, neck, feet and arms. To be frank, I was getting completely fucked. The King of Heroes was fucking me, and it felt like the entire world around me was fucking me along with him. This was fucking fantastic, so there was only one thing to say.

"Fuck," I moaned, only partially coherent.

I was clinging desperately to Gilgamesh, his pale skin slick and soft beneath my fingers, doing my best to keep my head above the water. With how spectacular I was feeling, I began to almost feel bad for the king. His body was sticking mostly out of the water, arms braced to the porcelain as our only means of support. He was unable to feel the gel beads all over his body. Collecting a handful, I rubbed them up his chest and spilled them over his back. Gilgamesh let out a grunting moan, losing rhythm for a second as they cascaded down his back.

Eyebrows knitted together and jaw slack, Gilgamesh's face was one of unrestrained pleasure. I could tell by the way he moved that at this point, he was functioning on base instinct, only capable of searching for increased stimulus. That was extremely hot. I decided to follow his lead, doing my best to flex against his movements.

Our bodies began to collide harder and faster. Our breath came out in pants and gasps, sometimes catching on a strained syllable. Our pleasure mounted until we reached a moment of pure ecstasy. I hit mine first, almost slipping my head into the water as my limbs relaxed. Completely lost in the mind numbing bliss, I noticed how well the gel actually held me up on its own. Gilgamesh, rapping an arm around my waist when he felt me go slack, finished off shortly after. When he came, he released a pleased moan, clearly not feeling a need to stifle his voice.

Then we separated, lounging against the ceramic walls. I usually enjoyed post-coital snuggling, but the bath made me feel so warm and secure already I didn't feel a need to seek it out. We sat there for a long time, relaxed, warm, and content. No conversation passed between us, but that didn't matter. Everything was perfectly fine. When the water finally began to feel a little chilly, Gilgamesh decided to get out.

I watched him leave, pale skin dripping with translucent globs made him look ethereal. Candle light flickered off of each clinging bead and made him sparkle. To my amusement, a small amount even fell out from between his butt cheeks. A small giggle escaped me.

But Gilgamesh didn't scold me. A happy smile had eased onto his face, one more genuine than I have seen in a very long time. Pleasure reciprocated is the most satisfying pleasure after all.


	4. Mastrabation (Part Two)

Evenings at Chaldea usually consisted of some quiet conversation and light drinking. The alcohol and tea flowed as freely as the chatter, though the staff was never certain how the kitchens were always so well stocked with both luxuries. Tonight, one could observe a rather unusual group gathered around the end of one table. The three oldest Cu Chulainn's didn't regularly spend much time in each other's company. Lancer and Caster had been careful to meet discreetly as of late and neither of them fancied spending much time in the presence of Berserker. Not that he ever sought them out in return.

Tonight was auspicious, however. Fate had brought the three of them together at last, all sharing a stein of their favorite, dark beer. Conversation started light between them, despite Berserker's uncanny propensity to remain silent.

"You know," Lancer drawled, intoxication evident in his voice, "You sure got lucky Berserker, turning out the way you did. Medb never saw us during one of our warp spasms. If she had, I shudder to think what you might have looked like."

The other two grimaced into their beer; memories of bones twisting and organs rearranging leaving an unpleasant aftertaste in their mouth.

"I never thought of it that way," Caster mused, sending Berserker a pitying look.

Berserker took another swig of beer.

"Well, that's all been said and done, am I right?" Lancer dismissed, propping his feet up on the empty bench beside him. "For now, there are plenty of other aspects to fill our time with."

"Oh? And what fills your time now Lancer?" asked Berserker, hoping to steer the conversation in a very specific, carnal direction.

Lancer sputtered unceremoniously across the table, reminded of his and Caster's 'activities.'

Caster, somehow the cleverest of the three, began to suspect Berserker's motivations. That is, if reading yourself could be considered clever. Perhaps he and Lancer had not been discrete enough over the past month and a half. "Why do you ask, Berserker?" Caster said, staring directly at the maddened warrior.

"I'm just curious to know what 'I' would find as a worthy pursuit during 'my' down time."

"You, he, and I are all the same," Caster deflected. "Wouldn't you know already the answer to your question?"

"I think I might," Berserker said distinctly.

Lancer blushed scarlet while Caster suddenly found his beer very interesting. Berserker lapsed into one of his uncanny silences, waiting for the awkwardness to pass. As such, the three of them passed the time, which flowed by as quickly as beer slid past their lips.

During the silence, Caster worked up the nerve to study the Mad King. His alternate self was shockingly reserved. The red eyes that stared Caster back were calculating and intuitive. Even more astonishing, Berserker was coherent. There were very few berserkers in Chaldea who were stable enough to form words, and Cu Alter was one of them. Caster began to suspect that Berserker was different from the others, fundamentally, and these things might not be the only differences. Perhaps, unlike the rest, Berserker was not magically cut off from his desires. The thought was, strangely thrilling.

Caster had not mentioned to Lancer the conversation he and Ritsuka-kun had about Berserker. Therefore, Lancer was swimming in a whirlpool of emotions. He was embarrassed at his own shyness around Cu Alter, and shocked at his own lust after the man. In life Lancer had been known for his sexual exploits, but he'd never felt embarrassed about them before. His face glowed bright red, the blush extending down his neck and over his ears. Trying to pass off his flush as the result of alcohol, Lancer began to chug the rest of his current beer. Taking a deep breath, Lancer mustered up some courage to speak.

"If you really want to know, Berserker," Lancer began.

"Lancer," Caster hissed, trying to stall the man.

"It's fine caster. Like you said, he is me… and you… and if we know then he will be alright to know to." Lancer's slur was growing stronger.

There was a short pause where the other two tired to decipher what Lancer had said.

"I think the beer has gone to this one's head," Berserker commented, eyes boring into Lancer, doing his best to look as if he weren't hanging off Lancer's every garbled word.

"Oh here we go," grumbled Caster.

"Caster and I have been doing some experimenting… in private," Lancer said, checking to see if there was any beer left in his stein.

"What kind of experimenting?" Berserker asked with forced innocence.

Lancer looked around, and then leaned into the table, whispering one single word. "Sexual."

Berserker did his best to remain looking stoic, but his tail twitched excitedly. "Perhaps I could join you," Berserker offered nonchalantly.

"Oh hell," Caster said firmly, tipping back his stein and draining the rest of his beer. He had resolved to follow along with Lancer's whim. If things got out of hand he could always abandon the poor drunk with Berserker and let the two of them work it out. "Fine, you can join us. Come, we will do this in your room Berserker." Caster stood up and turned away, beckoning for the other two to follow.

Berserker did not take orders well. He would never listen to anyone other than himself. So he followed after Caster without a word. Lancer jumped up and hurried after, tripping over the bench as he stood.

When they arrived in Berserker's room, the three of them stood for a moment in silence. Lancer, the last one in the room, locked the door and stood conveniently behind Caster. Berserker sat on the bed, watching the other two impatiently while his tail twitched back and forth.

"Well, how does this work?" Berserker asked, clearly disgruntled that he needed to say anything at all.

"Usually," Lancer started, sliding his hands up Caster's waist and tugging at his belts, "we start like this."

"Hold on now Lancer," Caster said, spinning the two around. "This is a new situation. I say we play things differently today." The Sage of the Forest smacked Lancer hard on the forehead, sending him falling backwards onto the bed next to Berserker.

"OW! The hell was that for?" Lancer shouted.

"Maybe it will help you sober up," Caster suggested unhelpfully, before capturing Lancer's lips in a heated kiss.

The vivid blush Lancer had sported earlier flared back into life. Caster's tongue rubbed teasingly against his own, the exact right size to fill Lancer's mouth entirely. Lancer's eyelids fluttered shut, blue eyelashes brushing against Caster's face. Fingers trailed softly behind Lancer's ear, tucking back stray strands of hair. The tickling fingers and writhing tongue sent spirals of ecstasy down Lancer's body. Heat began to pool in his abdomen.

All in all, Caster's distraction worked wonders. Making sure Lancer's hair was out of the way to give Berserker a good view, Caster pulled back, watching as Lancer chased after him.

"Do you know where your erogenous zones are Berserker?" Caster asked, glancing sideways at his alternate self.

"Yes." Berserker was almost insulted Caster even asked.

"Try touching Lancer in one of those places," Caster suggested.

Berserker did so, running clawed fingertips down the sides of Lancer's hips. Lancer shuddered and moaned as Caster began mouthing at his neck.

"What are you planning Caster?" Lancer breathed out, gasping.

The mage didn't answer, instead moving to run his fingers across the other's groin. With a violent shutter, Lancer released the mana keeping his armor corporeal; leaving himself naked between his alters. Caster smirked at the feel of warm skin beneath his fingers, and Berserker growled in pleasure. The Mad King sunk his teeth into Lancer's bare shoulder, reveling in the taste of blood rushing into his mouth. Lancer shivered, finding it both overwhelming and frustrating being on the receiving end of all the attention. He ground his teeth, stealing his resolve, and grasped Caster's hair firmly.

Caster snorted in surprise as lips smashed into his, a tongue flicking out across his teeth. The Sage of the Forest knew that Lancer would not put up with being on bottom for long, and grinned into the other's mouth. He had no intention of giving Lancer full control, but he would allow the man a break from the submission. Caster dematerialized his clothing and deepened his kiss with lancer. He expected the soft feeling of Lancer grasping his cock, what he did not expect was Berserker's fingernails to run down his back and thighs. Caster shuttered and his knees buckled slightly, momentarily overcome.

Berserker was enjoying himself, watching the other two get off on each other's ministrations, but he had no intention of playing voyeur all night. Getting the other two naked in his bed had gone better than he had hopped, but this was not enough. His own cock was feeling neglected, and there were so many options. From what he could tell, Caster some kind of designs on Lancer, and he had no problem putting The Hound between the two of them. While Lancer and Caster were absorbed with each other, Berserker grabbed Lancer one handed around the waist and set him up to kneel on the bed in front of him.

This immediately distracted Lancer. He turned his head around and growled in protest, the threat softened by his unfocused eyes and the little bit of drool trailing out of his lips. Caster was smiling deviously, not quite as high as Lancer, and sliding onto the bed across from Berserker.

"Now now Berserker, be gentle with our dear Lancer," he crooned, sliding his hands down Lancer's flank and grasping each side of his ass cheeks. "Little Lancer here has never had a cock in his ass. What do you say about introducing him to the pleasure?"

The offer went straight to Berserker's dick, and the way Caster was pulling Lancer's butt cheeks apart, flashing him a glance of that tight, puckering hole, made Berserker's body crawl with desire.

"Wait, Caster!" Lancer exclaimed, grasping at Caster's arms and looking slightly panicked.

The mage hushed the knight with a kiss, moving one hand to Lancer's hair. Rubbing small circles with his thumb behind Lancer's ear, Caster did his best to reassure Lancer. "You trust yourself with this, right?"

Lancer visibly swallowed, and didn't say no.

Berserker was not as willing to coddle as Caster. He had pulled his penis out of his pants and was caressing himself with long strokes. Not that he needed to be any more erect. The sight before Berserker would have been more than enough stimulation itself. Lancer was on his hands and knees, eyes unfocused, a little bit of blood oozing over his shoulder and down his arm from the bite mark Berserker had given him earlier. The Hound of Ulster was erect, and sweat was beginning to bead up on his back side, making the pale skin glisten. Berserker smiled to himself, deciding on the best way to prepare Lancer for penetration.

Caster seemed able to read Berserker better than the Mad King had anticipated. He was already easing a finger into the orifice, hand slicked with some kind of oil. Lancer was glad that Caster had taken initiative, Berserker's clawed fingers would have shredded his insides. The Hound didn't mind a little pain, but not that much.

"Take off your gloves and hold out your hands Berserker," Caster said, "Lancer, go ahead and touch yourself. May as well make this pleasurable."

Berserker slid off his gloves. Caster's commands so far had been fine, may as well continue to trust the mage. Berserker soon found his palms filled with warm seed oil, generated by an earth rune that Caster had drawn into the air. The lubricant felt good against his skin and even better against his dick. Berserker poured a little down Lancers ass, and rubbed the rest all over his penis. The anticipation to fulfill his fantasy was beginning to build within Berserker, sending more heat into his abdomen.

Small mewls began to sneak out of Lancer's mouth, his balls bouncing lewdly as he stroked himself. Despite his reservations, Lancer felt secure with Caster in command. The mage wouldn't let Berserker go out of control, and he had been secretly longing to have this happen to him. Well, not exactly this, his addled brain reminded him. In all the times he and Caster had hooked up over the past few months, he had never allowed his other self to touch his ass. However, he had been longing to know what it felt like, to be played with the way he played with Caster. The other man made the sensation look so good, and the orgasm Caster would have looked more intense than anything Lancer had experienced before.

Turning his attentions back to jerking off, Lancer did his best to distract himself from the very strange sensation of Caster's finger wriggling in his anus. When a second finger was added and Caster began to stretch him, Lancer redoubled his efforts. It was becoming uncomfortable, hedging on embarrassing, but Lancer was too stubborn to call things off.

That was until Caster flipped his hand around, whispered a hurried "Prepare yourself," into Lancer's ear and pushed down hard.

Lancer crumpled onto the bed, eyes flying open as pure ecstasy shot through him. His whole body felt numb to everything except the pleasure radiating from his lower body. Something had shot out of the end of Lancer's penis, and The Hound thought for sure he had just cum, not realizing that it was only a dribble of pre-ejaculate. He gasped, throat raw from the howl he didn't realize he had released. Lancer's arms shook violently as he tried to pick himself back up, giving Caster a dazed glare.

Lancer almost didn't catch Caster saying, "I think he is ready for you now," to the berserker behind him.

Lancer scrabbled at Caster's front, looking for anything to grip on to as something very hard, and much bigger than Caster's nimble fingers, began to slowly push itself into Lancer's butthole. His wine became a moan as the sphincter resisted weakly before easing open, the familiar seed oil rubbing sensually against the walls of his bowels. The place Caster had abused inside Lancer ached as Berserker slowly dragged his length across it. The sensation was equal parts strange and pleasurable, being taken for the first time. Lancer's thoughts were slowly regaining coherency as he looked up into Caster's face.

Caster was defiantly getting off on ordering the other two around. Their compliance and pleased moaning was stimulating, and the needy look in Lancer's face made is cock twitch.

"Gods Lancer, you look like a bitch in heat," Berserker slighted, finally buried all the way into Lancer's depths.

Lancer growled at the insult, grinding his teeth.

"Be a good boy, Lancer." Caster couldn't help but add in.

When he attempted to scratch behind Lancer's ears, Caster received a nasty bite to the wrist. Berserker hissed, the movement having jostled the two at their connection.

"Feisty mutt," Caster grumbled, grabbing a hand full of Lancer's hair. "This bad boy needs some punishing, Berserker," Caster said more loudly.

Berserker nodded in agreement, humping into Lancer at a brutal pace. The Hound's eyes crossed at the sudden friction, letting out a garbled moan, drooling slightly. Berserker was grunting and panting, brow furrowed and claws digging harshly into Lancer's hips. The skin looked close to breaking at the points where Berserker's fingernails met flesh. Caster smiled wickedly, enjoying the erotic scene.

"I can think of a better use for your mouth," Caster said, lining up his head in front of Lancer's mouth. "Mind your teeth dog."

To Caster's thrill and surprise, Lancer did not immediately bite down on his cock. The Hound didn't seem capable of controlling his actions, not with the intense pounding Berserker was giving him. Carefully, Caster guided himself in and out of Lancer's mouth. Warmth and dampness surrounded Caster, applying wonderful pressure to his neglected digit. He found it very difficult to not ram himself mercilessly into Lancer's mouth, but figured the man would not appreciate that coupled with the berserker's brutality. The slower pace did have its charms, however.

Caster hummed as Lancer's tongue fumbled across the engorged veins running up the underside of his cock. The mage was becoming unfocused and Berserker was excited to take advantage of his laps of vigilance. Keeping up the rough pace, he reached under the crouching Lancer, grasped his shaft and began pumping up and down the length, intentionally at the same rate of his pounding hips. Berserker used this hand as an anchor, pressing hard into Lancer's pelvis each time his hand came down so that Berserker's own cock would ram further into Lancer's ass. With his other hand, Berserker reached for Caster. Fingers curled harshly into long, blue hair and he crashed their lips together harshly, throwing Caster off his game.

Lancer was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Each heavy thrust sent spirals of pleasure spiraling up his back and across his abdomen. He couldn't tell which felt better, the abuse his prostate was receiving or the shockingly pleasant sensation of his pelvic bone being rammed by Berserker's fist. Every so often, The Mad King would nick the head of Lancer's penis with a fingernail, and Lancer began to wonder if he was bleeding or if all that liquid dripping out was only precum. He couldn't glance down and check, Caster still holding his head firmly upwards . Lancer was drooling worse than a dog over a fresh femur, and tears were leaking out of his eyes. All it took was to see Berserker kiss Caster above him, a soft, fleshy lip being pulled savagely between sharp, jagged teeth, for Lancer to become completely undone.

Lancer came hard, spraying the sheets below him while his hips collapsed into the mess. He choked on Caster's dick when he involuntarily moaned, tears of pain mixing with the ones of pleasure. Lancer's entire body felt boneless, his skin aching around the tiny tears in his hips and the bite mark on his shoulder. Yet, The Hound of Ulster could not bring himself to care. He took note of the other two leaving him, pulling out their erections and laying him down on the sheets comfortably, and away from his mess. Paying no mind to the other two, he fell into a sound, blissful sleep.

Caster pet his head affectionately, knowing exactly how Lancer felt. Then he turned a devilish grin to Berserker. "Shall we continue?"

Caster shouldn't have asked, Berserker was already jerking himself off with feverish abandon. All too soon the massive body was convulsing, covering Lancer's ejaculate with his own, and Caster was left to finish on his own.

"Out," Berserker growled, flopping down on the bed on the other side of Lancer.

The Mad King looked as he always did, stoic and uninterested. Almost as if the sex had no effect on him. Yet Caster could see a lightness in the way Berserker held himself, as if the void sucking his emotions dry was not as vehement. Caster had half a mind to whine and say 'what about me,' but he knew himself well enough to know that wouldn't go over well. With a light chuckle, he picked himself up and rematerialized his clothing.

"Take him with you," The Mad King Ordered.

"Fine," Caster complied, "but I will need something to cover him with." Lancer couldn't reasonably be expected to cloth his unconscious body.

Berserker literally tore a piece of the sheets off his bed, and tossed it over Lancer's unmoving body. "Take them, their filthy anyways."

Caster wasn't sure Lancer would appreciate being wrapped in the cum covered blanket, but it would have to do. Lifting the knight up, over his shoulders, Caster carried the limp man back to his own room, leaving Berserker with only a nonchalant wave goodbye.

That went far better than expected, for everyone involved.


	5. Through the Wilderness

Everything started just after my summoning. I had felt the pull of the grail, as daunting and overwhelming as all magic felt. When I looked to see who exactly was calling for me, my heart lept with joy. It had been that kind, black haired boy who had walked with me in Camelot. That time, I allowed the firm pull to guide my soul to the mortal world without restraint, committing to serving my master in their fight for world stability.

The moment my feet hit the floor, I could barely keep myself from running up and hugging Master tightly. If not for my long trained instinct to avoid touch at all cost, I may have squeezed the breath right out of him.

“Serenity,” he said awkwardly, but none the less happily, “Good to see you again.”

I remember I had said earnestly, “Everything, everything, everything as you would will it. I will offer all of myself to you. This body, this heart, all of it….”

“I’m glad,” he had said with an awkward smile, patting the top of my head.

The gesture, as commonplace as it was, left me blushing madly.

I am a poison girl. Through many generations of careful breeding and desensitization, my body has become poison incarnate. Yet I am not just any poison girl. I am the spiritual embodiment of all those poor souls who had been forced down the same path as I. Even though my memories were linked with one girl in particular, the one who had been discovered by the Old Man of the Mountain, my body held the same potency as all those girls combined. I am more than just ‘a poison girl,’ I am transcendent.

Yet, despite the sheer impossibility of it, I discovered a boy who was immune to my deadly touch. The boy, whose name was Ritsuka-kun, is the only person who was ever, and will ever, be able to touch me without dying. And when we met again in the summoning room of Chaldea, he casually ruffled my hair.

On that day, Master had plenty of work to. Along with me, he managed to summon one other new servant. Yet, he still showed me to my room and I even got a chance to shake his hand!

Little by little I sought out opportunities to interact with him. Just being around Ritsuka-kun was exhilarating. The ‘accidental’ brushes of our shoulders became highlights of my day. Every time he sensed my desire to be touched creeping past the limit of my self-restraint, Master would remind me that he did not mind touching me.

I still remember the day he let slip that he _wanted_ to touch me.

We were sitting around a table in the cafeteria eating lunch. During lunchtime, the cafeteria was usually sparsely populated. People would wander in and out, finding time for food as their schedule allowed. We were sitting with a couple of other people, whose names and faces I didn’t care to remember when thinking back on this moment.

Ritsuka-kun had been sipping from a mug of green tea while listening to one of the servant’s suggestion about our next training ground run. His face was handsome, so full of determination even though tactics were well out of his realm of understanding. I had become so entranced that I ended up jumping badly when someone called my name, flipping over my sandwich plate.

Embarrassed, I began brushing the crumbs back into my plate. When I reached for one of the spilled sandwiches, I accidentally touched Master’s hand.

“Oh!” I had exclaimed, pulling my hand back as quickly as I could. My face burned with the intensity of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry master,” I said quietly ashamed.

“I keep telling you it’s fine,” he had replied. We had all heard countless times that Ritsuka-kun was not upset with physical contact, me especially. “I want to touch you.”

That last bit, a departure from his usual assurances, left me completely astounded. No one else responded as if that comment was remarkable, but to me it was life altering.

From then on, every time we met I was reminded of Master’s desires. Not only did I want to be touched by him, but _he_ wanted to touch _me._ The intensity I felt from his touch grew tenfold after that, as if our mutual desire was a catalyst for increased sensitivity. My longing for contact grew so strong that one day, I even asked Ritsuka-kun to touch my hand.

And he did, without even a second thought. Better yet, he held my hand for a long time, not letting go when others approached us to discuss the Grand Order. I was so happy to be touching in such a meaningful way that I couldn’t focus on anything but my hand in his. Even after he released my fingers, my hand still felt warm and content.

But that had only lasted for about a day. Now even the fading memory of our contact had begun to seem more like a dream than reality. I was currently walking through the halls of Chaldea in a depressed state, reminiscing on those happy memories. With Ritsuka-kun out training, I felt a bitter sense of abandonment. I knew he could only bring six servants with him but I still wish he could have brought me along too.

What was it that Dr. Henry had said once? ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder?’ What utter bullcrap. Distance does nothing but torture the heart.

And then, as if in an answer to my unspoken prayers, Ritsuka-kun appeared at the end of the hall. I couldn’t stop the shy smile that curled into my lips as I registered my master’s form. All of my previous disparity instantly evaporated and the world brightened around me. How did I never notice the warm glow that the fluorescent lights cast upon the sleek, clean walls of the facility?

“Serenity!” he called to me, waving a hand and walking towards me purposefully.

I wanted with every fiber of my being to respond every bit as enthusiastically to Ritsuka-kun. For a moment I even fantasized about going weak in the knees so that Ritsuka-kun would be forced to catch me before I hit the ground. Instead, I didn’t do anything, barely even daring to breath as my master’s expression shifted from one of happiness to concern. I glanced down, embarrassed at my inner turmoil.

“Are you alright Serenity?” he asked, peaking at my lowered gaze through those clear, turquoise eyes.

“I’m fine Master,” I said quietly, making sure to steady my voice and restrain my desire to hold him tightly.

He paused then, for a long moment, as if considering something heavily. “Serenity, may I touch you?” he asked, suddenly standing straight and tall.

“If that is your wish,” I said. He knew I would allow him his every wish.

Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around me. One, strong, forearm lay across my lower back, pressing our fronts together firmly. The other hand guided my face into his neck, sheltering my eyes from our surroundings. I felt like he was trying to both comfort and protect me with just his arms. The wonderful feelings that blossomed into my chest were so amazing and surprising that I felt my body grow stiff.

“I’m sorry Serenity,” Ritsuka whispered into my ear.

“What for Master?” I whispered back, reveling in the feeling of his hot breath against my cheek.

“You just seemed so sad today when I announced that I was going out to train with the riders. I don’t know what I did to make you give me that expression, but I’m sorry.”

I bit back my crushing guilt at his words. If I had known my face would cause Master such distress, I would have hidden behind my mask. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” I began to apologize.

“No Serenity,” Master said firmly, interrupting me. “Nothing is your fault.” He pulled back to look directly into my eyes, truly impressing upon me his conviction.

I was unable to refute him. “Of course, Master.”

We stayed parted. The mere inches of air separating us felt more like miles to me. Longing filled my mind as Ritsuka lifted his hand. He brushed his fingers across my cheek, and a warm tingling followed. The softness of our connected flesh made his caress seem so very gentle.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” Ritsuka admitted to me. His eyes shone brightly like the Mediterranean on a sunny day.

His hand traveled from my cheek to my neck, enthralling relaxation following in its wake. I could feel myself instinctually leaning into his touch. My eyelids began to flutter as I marvel in the wondrous sensation. All thoughts of apologizing for being a distraction flew away as his hand shifted to cup my jaw.

“May I kiss you,” he whispered again, bringing his face impossibly close to mine.

My tongue was tied somewhere in between asking him if that would be alright and begging him to please do so. Instead I just nodded lightly, closing my eyes in anticipation for his request.

When it happened, everything stopped. My breath caught in my throat as my body tightened up in excitement. Every sound echoing down the were silenced. Inside my head was completely blank. Everything was dark, because my eyes had shut, though I do not remember shutting them. Soft lips were pressed against mine, and that was the only thing that existed in this dark, quiet world. I had never truly known bliss until this moment. By that I mean the kind of bliss that was mind-numbingly serene, fully enrapturing my body in an experience that was nothing short of divine. It was as if time itself had stopped to watch this truly beautiful moment transpire.

I was so thoroughly caught up in the moment that I was blindsided by what Master did next. His tongue ran across the bottom of my lip, slipping in between my teeth. Panic instantly set in. I opened my mouth to warn him. Not just my skin was poison, but my saliva and sweat were too. In fact, everything that I was, and everything I secreted, was a deadly toxin. If Ritsuka so much as touched my spit with a naked finger he would die, not to mention what would happen to him if he got any in his mouth. But instead of being able to tell him these things, my mouth was instantly filled with his probing tongue.

I wined and pushed lightly against his front, my arms more unwilling to move than I had expected, but he got the hint. We broke apart and I fell backwards gasping.

“Serenity, what’s wrong?!” Ritsuka-kun asked, grabbing my wrist so I wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Master-” I gasped out, “Master- my body. You know what it is, it could kill you-”

Before I could finish, Ritsuka-kun grasped my face with his warm hands, each of his palms on one of my cheeks. “Serenity, you can’t hurt me.” The overwhelming certainty in his bright eyes brought to life a small flicker of hope in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t look away, not even as shyness threatened to overcome me. “Promise?” I whispered.

“Promise,” he whispered back, leaning in very slowly and reclaiming my lips.

This time, when his tongue flicked out, I opened my mouth without restraint. Our tongues met in a delicious union. The rubbing and sliding of the two muscles sent shivers down my spine. All I could focus on was our hot mouths intertwining. When his tongue slid across my teeth my lips twitched happily, and when he slid under my tongue I felt my jaw drop open to accommodate him. If Ritsuka so much as hinted at wanting to explore another part of my mouth, I welcomed it. Everything he did felt impossibly good.

A very short amount of time passed before my knees began to tremble.

To my delighted surprise, Ritsuka bent over and swept me off my feet. With my tongue still entangled in his mouth, he carried me down the hallway. I could feel Ritsuka’s muscles, taut beneath the white master’s uniform, holding me steadily in his arms. Beneath me his legs carried him, unhampered by my weight, surefooted and purposeful. Just then it occurred to me how sturdy Master was. In contrast to his rather plain and average appearance, Ritsuka-kun had a deep, hidden strength. I would have never guessed how strong he was just by looking at him, but now that I thought about it, chasing after servants all day must have strengthened him.

When we reached my door, Ritsuka fumbled with the handle. Instead of watching him struggle, I unclasped my hand from his shirt, where it had found some manner of purchase, and pushed the door open for him. The door banged open and Ritsuka stumbled in, not bothering to turn on the light. He kissed me fondly, eyes closed, groping for the bed. When he found it, I tumbled backwards onto the cover, Ritsuka landing on top of me.

His body weight was nothing short of supreme. I could feel his hip balancing perfectly over mine; chest pressing against my diaphragm restricting my breathing just enough to make a heady sensation build in my brain. Covered by human warmth and pressed into by a human body, I never wanted this sensation to end. These all-consuming feelings left me in a world devoid of anything else. Existence consisted entirely of me and Ritsuka, touching and breathing and kissing.

The world slowly sifted around us, moving gradually downward as Ritsuka’s lips left mine and drifted down my throat. I felt his tongue lave the space between my breasts, unhindered by my own garments that curled skimpily across my nipples. His breath tickled my stomach as feather light kisses drifted lower and lower. I was again lost to the sensations that Ritsuka were providing me.

That was until I felt the cloth covering my groin shift slightly, warm breath ghosting over my pelvis.

“Master wait!” I squeaked, knees coming together quickly and hands flying to his hair to pull him away.

As a girl, my body had been trained to secret a powerful poison. As a woman, I had been trained to kill with my most powerful weapon. Therefore, any sexual experience I’d had in life had only ended quickly. Between my legs lay my most potent poison. Slow acting and sweet tasting, it had led many powerful men to their graves. I wasn’t about to let master meet the same fate.

“What’s wrong serenity?” The husky voice echoed from between my legs, clear eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, hands still shaking violently. Just before I opened my mouth to remind him that I would kill him, I remembered what master had said, what he had promised. “I- I-” I stammered.

“It’s alright Serenity,” Master whispered, his breath gliding across my surprisingly sensitive groin.

I couldn’t resist his temptations. Succumbing to the deep rooted bliss, I released Ritsuka’s hair from my grasp, trembling as I felt him lower his head back down to my body. Not truly knowing what to expect, I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath. For a moment, my body was frozen with anticipation.

Then, suddenly, the breath I had been holding flowed past my lips. Something very warm and very soft slid between my labia. First up one side, and then the other, my core tightened as Ritsuka began to lick me. His tongue was shockingly firm as it pressed against my clitoris, sending a pulsing waves of warmth shooting up my body. Each wave dampened my awareness, tossing me further and further into the depths of my bliss.

Ever second that passed increased the warm, tightness that was beginning to build in my abdomen. My trembling increased until I was shaking violently in Ritsuka’s hold, and he had grabbed onto my hips to keep his position above my pelvis. I was clutching to his scalp as if it were my lifeline, twisting his hairs painfully in my grasp. Yet he didn’t complain. Ritsuka just continued the ethereal ministrations of my sex. He kept going until something exploded inside of me.

Shockwaves of pleasure shot up and down my body. I could feel something deep in my abdomen pulsating, sending out wave after wave of white hot bliss. With each wave my hips bucked into Ritsuka’s face, and I could hear him grunt in surprise. After the first buck he must have pulled away, because I couldn’t feel his mouth on me anymore. My eyes were closed, or at least they must have been. I couldn’t see anything except sweet darkness. When the shockwaves stopped, I found myself panting and sweating on top of the bed sheets.

Through the cloud of bliss that had covered my mind, I felt a warm body settle down next to mine. I attempted to say something, but all that came out was a soft murmur.

“Shhh,” came Master’s reassuring voice. “Rest Serenity.”

A blanket was slowly pulled over the two of us, and I barely registered how the moving fabric scratched against my sensitive skin. Everything was warm and comfortable, and I felt content. Master had given me a wonderful gift, for no other reason than he wanted to. This meant more to me than I dared admit as I fell asleep in his embrace.


	6. Unlimited Dong Works

_ “Faker.” _

The word seemed to haunt Emiya wherever he went at Chaldea. Ever since the King of Heroes had been summoned to the white washed halls, Emiya had to suffer the insult whenever they crossed paths. Even after graciously cooking the king fine meal after fine meal, the golden archer would not desist. Emiya was a patient man, to an extent, and Gilgamesh seemed determined to test his boundaries.

Unfortunately for Gilgamesh, Emiya had perfected a grounding technique. Memories from previous summonings were always hazy, but the red archer had vivid recollection of defeating the King of Heroes single handedly. Whenever Gilgamesh taunted him, Emiya would just reflect on his arrow piercing deep into his skull and his irritation would immediately abate. Then he could remain aloof to the taunts, only further infuriating Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh, however, had his own rebuttal to this, and it lay in his apathy. The golden archer paid no mind to Emiya’s fragile indifference and payed back in kind. If he wasn’t going to get a rise out of the red archer, then Gilgamesh could always wait until next time. There would always be another chance to goad the man. They were each equally confident in their own armories, should their rivalry come to blows.

To no one’s surprise, the tension came to a head one day.

Gilgamesh had been lounging in solitude, taking up the entirety of a small, common space. Emiya happened to walk by the doorway, catching Gilgamesh’s eye.

“Faker,” he breathed out, just loud enough for the other to hear him.

This time, the red archer paused, and retraced his steps. He entered the room Gilgamesh occupied, and crossed his arms over his chest. The cold stare resonating from those steel gray eyes would have frozen the soul of any lesser man. Gilgamesh, being nearly as radiant as the sun, did not balk.

Yet, before anything could happen, Ishtar waltzed into the room.

“There you both are!” Ishtar exclaimed, taking no note of the atmosphere. “I have been meaning to ask you both a question. In a scholarly sense.”

“What can I do for you,” offered Emiya, eyes not leaving the golden archer.

“You had better make it worth my while,” Gilgamesh said sullenly, looking down the end of his nose at Emiya.

“So, you can make anything appear out of thin air,” Ishtar addressed Emiya.

“Not out of thin air,” Emiya corrected, not intending to elaborate.

“And you have an inexhaustible number of treasures at your disposal,” she addressed Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh didn’t bother to respond. That should be obvious.

“Now, remember I ask this academically. Who has the better sex toys?” Ishtar asked.

“Me,” they both responded at the same time, finally sifting their gaze to the goddess.

There was a short moment of silence.

“You will have to pardon me, King of Heroes, but the toys of your time were primitive at best. There were many things that grew better and more advanced with time, and I believe my era has an advantage,” Emiya defended his claim, hoping to brush off Gilgamesh quickly.

“Nonsense,” Gilgamesh rebuked. “My treasury holds the greatest treasures of all time. Even the quantity of your modern devices couldn’t match up to the splendor of my quality.”

The two glared daggers at each other.

“How about we put it to the test!” Ishtar said excitedly, clapping her hands. She trotted into the room and settled herself on a couch behind a small coffee table. “Let us compare the finest sex toys you each can come up with. I’ll be the judge.”

Gilgamesh looked at the goddess quizzically while Emiya looked exasperated.

“Very well,” Gilgamesh consented. “This prospect seems amusing. Let’s see the best of what you can produce, mongrel.”

Emiya’s bronzed hand rubbed his forehead as a golden portal appeared behind Gilgamesh. Into Gilgamesh’s awaiting hand fell a small, green, phallic like object. It was distinctly carved to appear similar to a penis, with a large ring fastened precariously to the end.

“Behold!” Gilgamesh stated loudly. “From Shanghai, the precursor to modern day butt plugs!” he smiled as he placed the object before Ishtar on the table. “This is made of solid ivory and used in burial rituals to help mongrels retain their qui after death. Even by today’s standards, this piece of equipment is nearly priceless.”

Ishtar examined the plug excitedly, pleased at the use of a rare material.

“Trace-on,” Emiya muttered under his breath. His hand glowed for a second before he too placed an object before Ishtar.

The glass ornament was breathtaking to behold. The bottom end looked like a flat disk, connected to a short column which bulged out dramatically into an egg shape. Inside the budge were twisting ribbons of red, blue and yellow, intricately lain by the glass blower’s careful hand. The toy was noticeably larger than Gilgamesh’s.

“This is a representation of the modern day butt plug,” Emiya explained a little sheepishly. “The wide base prevents the toy from accidentally sliding into the anus and becoming stuck, and the glass is non porous to prevent bacteria from growing inside.”

Gilgamesh scoffed. “Would you really put something as fragile as glass in your rectum?”

Ishtar tapped the butt plug curiously on the table and found it sturdier than she had expected.

“Tell me how, exactly, you are supposed to retrieve your toy if the handle snaps off inside of you,” Emiya asked Gilgamesh pointedly.

“Hum,” Ishtar silenced them with a wave of her hand. “I think Gilgamesh wins this round Emiya-kun. No matter how pretty yours looks, the jade used to make this is just too valuable to pass up.”

Gilgamesh snickered.

“Oh?” Emiya replied. “Tell me, Ishtar, which one would you prefer to try?”

Ishtar blushed scarlet and pulled the glass butt plug she had still been fondling to her chest. “How imprudent to ask that to a goddess,” she scolded. She sputtered a moment longer while Gilgamesh watched her, unamused. “Perhaps we will call this one a draw,” she decided finally. “Yes, let’s do that,” she agreed for them. “Bring out your next example.”

Smirking arrogantly, Gilgamesh summoned another item from his portal. Proudly, he presented a well-made, simple looking wooden box. The box has one small opening that is well sealed by a wax stopper. There are no designs carved into the box and no paint decorating the outside. The most remarkable thing about the box was how well bound the edges were. You would have been able to fill the box with water and not lose a drop.

“I present to you,” Gilgamesh stated, “Cleopatra’s vibrator!”

“This is a vibrator?” asked Ishtar, excitement creeping into her voice. She picked up the wooden box and shook it. “How does it work?”

The King of Heroes pause for dramatic effect. “Legend states, that Cleopatra would fill the box with live bees, enough so that the buzzing would shake the box and provide the desired stimulus.”

“Bees?” Emiya deadpanned.

“Yes mongrel, bees,” Gilgamesh clarified.

“You seriously expect a woman to place live, angry bees between her legs?”

Ishtar set the box down again warily.

“This is a national treasure!” Gilgamesh proclaimed.

Emiya sighed as his palm connected with his forehead. With his other hand he conjured a pink, silicone wand with a simple set of buttons. The shaft of the wand was decidedly phallic shaped, with a small hook on the end by the base. Anyone looking at it would be able to recognize the wand as a high quality vibrator. He placed the vibrator in Ishtar’s hand.

“The first button turns on the motor in the shaft, the second button turns on the motor in the clitoral stimulator. Pressing the buttons again makes the respective motor run faster. Holding them down turns them off,” Emiya begrudgingly described.

Curiously, Ishtar pressed the first button, yelping in shock as the vibrator practically jumped out of her hands. The shaft motor wasn’t just a simple vibration. Instead it caused the entire wand to rock back and forth, exactly like a human penis might hump into you. Ishtar blushed and smiled down at the toy, eyes dilating even in the bright light of the common room.

After fiddling with the controls for a few minutes, Ishtar set Emiya’s vibrator on the couch beside her, clearly not intending to return it. “I believe this round has a clear winner.”

“Impossible. I’m being forced back? By a fraud like you?” Gilgamesh muttered to himself, anger flashing in his eyes.

Emiya chuckled to himself.

“Very well faker, let’s see if you can contend with this!” A small, glass vial fell into Gilgamesh’s outstretched palm. “Greek oil made from the olive tree Athena gifted to her people. You will not find a purer replica.”

Emiya produced a plastic bottle with a pump top. “Water based. Doesn’t get sticky or gummy. Lasts more than six hours.”

And so went the rest of  that afternoon. Ishtar did her best to remain an impartial judge, even when Gilgamesh began to goad her for her preferences. After all, who in their right mind would turn down the chains of heaven for that pink, fluffy contraption? By the time the competition was finished, the common space was cluttered with all manners of memorabilia. There was barely enough room to walk around.

Gilgamesh made sure to return each of his treasures back to his vault. He would not dare to part with any of them, even if some had been outdone by a mere mongrel. Emiya was content to leave his creations with Ishtar, who was thrilled to receive them.

“Bribery won’t win you the contest mongrel,” Gilgamesh scolded, shooting Emiya a venomous glare.

“I don’t believe bribery was necessary, King of Heroes,” Emiya chided.

Neither man would ever admit to losing the contest, and Ishtar promised to keep the true victor a secret.

  
  



	7. A King Between Her Knights

Artoria had feelings for one of her knights. Thought she was embarrassed to admit it, she’d always had feelings from him. Ever since that all to perfect knight strode into her castle, violet hair sticking up at odd angles and that light French accent falling perfectly from his rosy lips. At the time, she had not been a fair maiden of the court, she was King Arthur Pendragon. Just as she had done with most other womanly emotions, she suppressed her desire, welcoming the stranger to her round table.

Lancelot remained a heart throb for her for the rest of her life. Even after she found out about him and Guinevere, whom Artoria had convinced herself that she loved, Artoria couldn’t help but pine for the man. Determined to never let her feelings show, she locked all her love in her heart, and assumed it had died with her on the hill of Camlann.

However seeing the saber again, as spry and healthy as he was in his prime, reinvigorated Artoria’s longing. This time, there was no reason to repress it other than the familiar habit. Everyone knew by now that King Arthur was actually the woman King Artoria, and there was no Briton to rule over. She was just a well-loved king, and he was her devoted knight.

No one seemed particularly surprised when Lancelot asked to court her. What seemed to surprise them was her quick acceptance. Yet their astonishment didn’t last long. The two seemed to make an excellent match. As it turned out, courting Lancelot was easy. They were practically best friends already, despite a rather rocky history. They held conversation well, had similar beliefs, and agreed on almost everything. Also, they were quite compatible in bed.

Knights were intrepid by nature. They lusted after adventure, inside and outside the bedroom. Artoria was first to suggest something new, having vaguely remembered enjoying anal with a previous master of hers. After that Lancelot practically begged Artoria to tell him about her fantasies. Unlike some of the Knights of the Round Table, namely Sir Tristan, Artoria was shy about her desires. Even after much reassurance she still blushed a vivid shade of red and stuttered her requests.

Lancelot was a gentleman about the whole affair. He praised her courage and did not balk at some of her stranger ideas. Slowly, they began to try things out. Some fantasies proved to be overwhelmingly satisfying, others less so. What proved to be the most gratifying for the two of them is when Artoria asked Lancelot to take control. She had asked him to pretend, for the night, that he was her king, and she not but a serving girl. That night had left the two breathless and spent after multiple orgasms.

Tonight was going to be one of those adventurous nights. Lancelot had indicated in the secret way by handing her a single white rose when they met at dinner. Artoria accepted, tucking the rose into her bodice with a smile. She ate quickly, stopped by her room to drop off her armor and weapon, and then made her way to Lancelot’s room.

“You’re late,” he said when Artoria entered.

Lancelot was leaning against the head of the bed, pillows propping him up comfortably. He was only wearing some loose fitting trousers and a thin shirt, glaring daggers at the clock on the bedside table.

_ So it was one of those nights. _ Artoria thought. Doing her best to play along, “I apologize my-” she started.

“No matter,” Lancelot silenced her. “Strip and come here.”

She did as instructed, quickly unlacing her dress and climbing over the bed to meet her lover. Artoria attempted to undo Lancelot’s pants and begin pleasuring him orally, but she was quickly stopped. He grabbed her wrists and spun her around, placing the naked king in his lap. Sharp, lilac eyes appreciated the sight of her body, arms clasped behind her back by one of his strong hands.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it first,” Lancelot whispered into her ear, the puff of air making Artoria shiver.

“What do you mean?” She gasped out.

Lancelot’s fingers had found their way to her groin, and were teasing her just above her pelvic bone. Tantalizing circles were making her curl into him, hoping he might lower his hand just a touch.

“There is something you told me you desired,” Lancelot explained coyly. “Something I wasn’t sure I would be able to provide you.”

Artoria moaned as Lancelot’s experienced fingers pressed into a particularly sensitive spot. He teased there a moment longer, rubbing and pushing against all her buttons. Then he began sliding his fingers to her entrance. She was already wet, but Lancelot intended to tease her longer. He covered the tips of his fingers in the slick, and trailed them, feather light, over her cliterous. For a moment Artoria almost forgot what they were talking about.

“Tell me, what was that I asked for?” Artoria asked breathaly.

“What do good girls say when they want something?” Lancelot quipped, lips pressing into her shoulder.

“Please?” The word was drawn out slowly.

“That’s right. You’re such a good girl Artoria,” he praised.

The king gulped at the sound of her name. He only ever used her first name like that when they were being intimate, and she found that arousing.

“And you have been such a good girl lately,” Lancelot continued, fingers finally slipping past the tight ring of muscle and into her vagina. “I thought I might treat you to one of your dirty fantasies tonight.”

Artoria bit her lip as one finger pressed against the top of her vagina, rubbing hard past the bundle of nerves there. When Lancelot repeated the action she threw her head back, letting it rest on his still clothed shoulder.

“What was it? Which fantasy?” Artoria asked again, a little bit of desperation in her voice.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Artoria froze, eyes fixed on the single entrance. She was acutely aware of how firmly Lancelot was holding her hands behind her back and how his fingers had not stopped moving in and out of her. Her face grew bright red.

“Remember when you told me you wanted to know the feeling of two men inside you? I now present you with the opportunity.”

Artoria sat perfectly still, stunned at the situation. She momentarily thought to call everything off, knowing that if she asked, Lancelot would send away the man behind the door. But she had accepted the rose. This was one of her desires, not an uncommon one Lancelot had once assured her, and he was willing. Slowly, she nodded her head.

“You may enter,” Lancelot bade.

Through the door strode one of the last people Artoria expected. Bedivere, eyes widening at the sight before him, quickly knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. He had not been prepared to see his King presented to him like this, completely naked with Lancelot smiling devilishly over her shoulder.

“I was told you wished to have me accompany you tonight, my liege,” Bedivere spoke to the ground.

“You told him?” Artoria asked, voice wavering.

“It was Sir Tristan who suggested I ask him,” Lancelot replied.

“You told Tristan?!”

“Is that so wrong?” Lancelot’s voice held a bit of honest worry. His fingers stilled for a moment inside of her.

Artoria didn’t know how to respond. Of course he could seek guidance from his friends, but she wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with everyone knowing about her and Lancelot’s private time.

“So long as Gawain doesn’t find out,” she finally conceded.

There was a strained silence as her two knights shared a glance.

“He may already know, your majesty,” Bedivere admitted.

Artoria deflated with a sigh, so much for retaining some level of virtue. “I see,” she muttered.

“Do not fear, Artoria. I am sure The Holy Sword of the Sun will not hold this against you,” Lancelot reassured her, kissing her cheek.

“Artoria?” Bedivere questioned, not used to Lancelot being on a first name basis with the king.

“It will be ‘your majesty’ to you, Bedivere,” Lancelot scolded. This was a privilege he was not willing to share.

Bedivere nodded while he waited for Artoria to process the conversation.

“Hum, very well. You may join us, Bedivere,” she consented.

The one armed knight rose, walking up to where the two sat on the bed. Lancelot slowly withdrew his finger, running the damp hand over her thigh comfortingly.

“What would you like Bedivere to do Artoria,” Lancelot murmured in her ear.

Bedivere paused an arms length away, rubbing together his palms in an attempt to heat up his metal arm.

Artoria didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t prepared herself to be in a demanding role today, but this is how Lancelot would have it. Her voice caught in her throat.

“We are waiting love,” Lancelot purred, kissing her throat. He was very clearly enjoying her embarrassment.

“... I would like him to touch me....” She said in the smallest voice she could muster, not looking  Bedivere in the eye.

“How and where Artoria,” Lancelot coaxed. “You must be clear on this.”

Artoria’s body ached where Lancelot had been touching her. Between her legs pulsed with anticipation and she shifted her hips. She could feel Lancelot smile against her back, and Bedivere’s eyes jumped downwards with her movement.

“My... genitals...his mouth,” She finally admitted.

“You heard you king,” Lancelot said firmly.

“Yes your majesty,” Bedivere agreed, bending down and placing his lips to her groin.

Artoria gasped and arched into Bedivere. His lips were warm and soft, sliding almost unnoticed against her labia. However, his tongue was strong and confident. Quickly he was twisting his tongue around in a way that had Artoria wondering if he was indeed human. A small quivering began to grow in her hips as pleasure radiated up from her abdomen. She felt so very wet as his drool mingled with her own juices.

“Very good Sir Bedivere,” Lancelot praised. “Your king demands more.”

Lancelot pressed the back of Bedivere’s head into Artoria’s groin, increasing the pressure. This left Artoria groaning in pleasure. She was leaning all her weight on Lancelot at this point, and could feel his arousal pressing hard against her rear. Just the thought of him sliding into her left Artoria stuttering and twitching. She was shocked to realize how close she was after so little time.

“Wait, Bedivere. If you keep going I’ll…” Artoria muttered.

Lancelot allowed Bedivere to pull away, and the smaller knight looked up at her with satisfaction, lip glistening.

“Why should we wait Artoria? Do you want something else?” asked Lancelot, running a hand over her bosom.

“Yes.” Artoria tried to leave it at that, hoping her unspoken request would be clear. It was almost unbearably embarrassing to give voice to her desires. Yet, the silence from both men made it clear that wouldn’t be the case. “I want you both… inside…”

“And the magic word?” teased Lancelot, tweaking a nipple.

“Please,” she moaned.

“As the king commands,” Lancelot agreed for them both. “Bedivere, you may have the front. Now disrobe for your king.”

Bedivere nodded and set about removing his clothing. Once he was completely bare, he settled himself down in front of Artoria. His natural hand was stroking his cock idly. It clearly wasn’t necessary. Bedivere was already erect, and ready to enter her.

“Do I have permission to touch you, your majesty?” Bedivere asked, looking to Lancelot.

Artoria nodded.

“You have permission Bedivere,” Lancelot said, putting voice to the words Artoria was not capable of producing.

He reached out and ran a hand across Artoria’s vagina. The motion did not stimulate much pleasure, but served a practical purpose. He gathered some of Artoria’s natural lubrication and began to smear it across his length. Artoria started, fascinated by his ministrations. The thought of her own juices being rubbed across Bedivere’s genitals increased the warm tightness in her abdomen. Lancelot nibbled on her neck, clearly jealous that Bedivere was getting all the attention. 

Artoria slowly felt herself being re-positioned. Lancelot had scooched down the bed so that he could lay on his back, pushing her backwards to drape across his chest. He had finally released her arms, but she didn’t dare reach out to touch Bedivere. Even though Lancelot was not physically restraining her, he was still in control, and she had no desire to test him. Once Bedivere was prepared, he gently lined himself up at her entrance.

“May I enter?” he asked, looking again to Lancelot.

“Your king has already demanded you do so,” Lancelot said.

With that Bedivere pushed himself in, making Artoria moan lightly. He was different than Lancelot. Almost as gerthy but not as long. His shape filled her nicely, satisfying the dull ache that Lancelot’s fingers had left. She sighed, hands reaching out to grasp the bed covering, one instead finding Lancelot’s fingers. When Bedivere began to move, she used her grip on Lancelot as an anchor.

Bedivere soon proved to be a leisurely lover. He started out moving slowly, and continued slowly at an even, gentle pace. Artoria, used to Lancelot’s quicker and tougher pace, soon began wondering if Bedivere was holding himself back. She opened her eyes and studied his face. The knight looked lost in pleasure, expression calm and distant. He clearly wasn’t holding back for her sake, he just enjoyed the relaxing rhythm.

Before Artoria could form an opinion of that, Lancelot began to shift around underneath her.

“You won’t mind if I take this side, my King,” he stated.

Suddenly, Lancelot’s dick was thrust hard into Artoria’s ass hole. A small scream was wrenched from her lips as she was suddenly filled beyond her own comprehension. The pleasure that suddenly enveloped Artoria was all consuming. Her eyes were open but she saw only blackness. There was no awareness of her body other than the very full, very stimulated passageways that contained her two knights. She could feel every inch of them pressing against her insides.

When they moved, Artoria fell deeper into bliss, all her aches and desires satisfied tenfold. Lancelot set an almost brutal pace, while Bedivere kept up his slow, now trembling, movement. The dichotomy was mindrendingly arousing. Artoria couldn’t keep up with either, or keep track of what the rest of her body was doing. Her toes curled, her breathing was shallow pants, her back arched. Yet, she noticed none of this. She vaguely heard herself moaning loudly, almost a high pitched scream. Or at least she thought she did.

The wall between her vagina and rectum was so very thin, and surprisingly sensitive. She could feel the two of them rubbing against each other. Even Bedivere’s small movements felt so stimulating that her mind was flooded with pleasure. She could perfectly picture what was happening to her body in the darkness. Two fleshy tunnels filled with pulsing, twitching erections. Two men humping in and out of her, chasing their own pleasure and fulfilling her own.

“More…” Artoria thought, or maybe said. And this time without prompting, “Please…”

Some incoherent muttering later and they complied. A hand found a way to her nipple and someone was kissing her. Artoria was so overwhelmed that the building tension finally exploded inside of her. This time, she really did scream. Pleasure ravaged her body in waves, each crescendo producing a loud moan that was echoed by her companions. She twisted and twitched violently, finally settling down to a violent shaking as she rode the sea of her orgasm.

The boys didn’t last much longer than she did. Bedivere came silently, pulling out to finish on Lancelot’s bed sheets as he was told to. Lancelot came inside of Artoria, his thick seamen sliding out of her ass uncomfortably. Then everything was still, and quiet.

Bedivere, the dutiful knight, quietly cleaned up while Lancelot and Artoria came down from their high. They had not moved from where they had collapsed, breathing heavily. Artoria was still trembling, endorphins ravaging her body. Lancelot was covered in sweat having exerted most of his energy keeping the other two on top of him. The two didn’t come back to earth until Bedivere was already dressed.

“I’ll take my leave now, your majesty,” he said once he had their attention.

Artoria shifted off of Lancelot gently. She looked at Bedivere with clear, green eyes, as if she were his king sitting upon her thrown and not the woman he had just lain with sitting on his skeet. Shockingly, Artoria still managed to command an air of respect, looking regal despite her mussed appearance. Internally, Bedivere was impressed with his lord.

“Thank you Sir Bedivere,” She said earnestly.

Lancelot smirked at Bedivere from the bed, not nearly as composed as his lover.

“It was a pleasure, your highness,” Bedivere replied, bowing at the waist.

He turned and left, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him. Lancelot and Artoria remained where they were for a moment, silent. Artoria was the one who broke the silence.

“Lancelot… Thank you,” she murmured.

“I would do anything for you love, you know that,” Lancelot replied, running a soothing hand up and down her back.

Artoria turned to look at him. “Something tells me this wasn’t just for me.”

“I won’t deny enjoying Bedivere’s presence,” Lancelot admitted, smirking koyly. Artoria understood that to mean that he had enjoyed exerting his dominance over the smaller knight.  


“Not many a man would be so willing to share his woman,” Artoira commented after a moment.

“I can hardly demand fidelity from you, of all people, Artoria. Not after what I have done to you.”

“No… I suppose you cannot.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
